By Blood and Coin
by Dahlia d'Arque
Summary: The year is 1836. Dunwall is being ravaged by the Rat Plague, and the Business of Death is booming. Yet, Assassination is far from an easy profession. My promotion depends on me discovering a traitor in our ranks, and there is a contract looming that threatens to plunge our City, our Empire, into turmoil. My name is Arissa Gwethalyn Daurana, Novice Assassin…And this is my story.
1. Rise and Shine!

**Author's Note:** Several years ago, I wrote a story by the name of "Blood and Coin." I had been so inspired by the Whalers that I wanted to create a story that put them, specifically, in the spotlight. However, I never finished it. Each time I went back to it, I strayed further and further away from what I had originally created. Because of my inability to perform as a writer, I ultimately let all of my fans down. Doing so broke my heart. Now I'm back, and I'm taking a different approach.

Allow me to present "By Blood and Coin." This story is set prior to the events of Dishonored 1, and it is the first in a series of novel length stories that I have planned. The series itself will be spanning Dishonored 1's DLCs, "The Knife of Dunwall" and "The Brigmore Witches," as well as eventually spanning into Dishonored 2.

Thank you for taking the time to read this story! Your views, reviews, follows, and/or favorites are greatly appreciated, and I hope that you enjoy this story!

* * *

 ** _Chapter One_**

 ** _Rise and Shine!_**

* * *

 _Oracle Natividad's Asylum for Natural Philosophical Research_

 _Research District, The City of Dunwall, Isle of Gristol_

 _Ninth Day, Month of Earth, 1836_

 ** __O_O_O__**

"Rise and shine, Novices!" Mentor Galia said authoritatively, banging a wooden spoon against a cast iron cooking pot. "Rise and shine! Time to get up, you lazy sods!"

 _By the Outsider, what time is it? We just got dismissed from hand-to-hand combat training not even two hours ago._

Mentor Galia kept banging the spoon against the pot. Around the room, all six of my brothers, including myself, were groaning. After the day we had yesterday, all we wanted to do was sleep. Now, we were being awoken at an unholy hour.

For more training, no doubt.

"Quit your whining! You're supposed to be assassins, not schoolchildren. In fact, you insignificant worms should be used to getting up this early! You'll have contracts, patrols, and many more duties that will be completed at any and all hours of the day. Do you understand me, Novices?"

"Yes, sir, Mentor Galia!" we all said in unison.

"That's more like it," he replied, seemingly pleased at our obedience. "Master Daud wants your lazy asses up and out of bed. You're all to start preparing for today's trials. You will have three hours to eat, bathe, get dressed, or do whatever in the name of the Void it is you need to do before your trials. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir, Mentor!"

"Excellent. Your three hours begins now."

Mentor Galia left the room.

And not a single one of us got out of bed.

"Anybody know what time it is?" Rinaldo asked, yawning.

I sat up, rubbed my eyes, and glanced out the window. The full moon was still illuminating the grounds of the Asylum. "I am going to guess it is around two or three…It is still dark outside."

"Did you figure that out yourself, _whiz kid_?" Anatole said, sardonic in tone.

"At least I am not the one who keeps a secret diary," I replied, equally sardonic.

Around the room, my brothers burst out in laughter. One by one, we got out of bed, retrieved our equipment, and began to put on our full Whaler uniform. Novice and Master Assassin alike wear the same linen shirt underneath a white brigade vest, buttoned high on the neck; the same short-sleeved leather frock coat; the same black leather, large cuff gauntlet gloves, with the glove on our left forearm specially modified for our wristbow; and the same light brown leather calf boots.

Novices, like us, wear a pale blue coat, red trousers, and a red belt around our waist. We also have a belt that we wear across our left shoulder, and its color is brown. Master Assassins, like Mentor Galia, wear a black coat, brown trousers, and matching brown belts on their waists and left shoulder. And then there is Master Daud's and Lieutenant Lurk's uniform. Their uniform mimics the Masters' uniform down to every last detail. However, they wear a red coat instead of a black coat. That way, it marks them as being the chain of command.

Lastly, each and every one of us wears a vapor mask, as a means to conceal our faces and distort our voices from those that we conduct business with. The mask is the exact same for each rank of Whaler. _I wonder if this will be the year that I finally make Master Assassin…I certainly hope it is._

 _Seven years of being a Novice has been tiring. And let alone, I joined the same year as Billie Lurk! How did she become Master Daud's lieutenant, and I am still only a Novice? What am I doing wrong?_

"You know, Anatole, you'd best be careful of Arissa," Akila said, chiming in. "She's got a pretty sharp mind _and_ tongue. Women like that are dangerous breeds. Just ask all the noblemen Master Daud has killed."

"Hey, I'd still bed her in an instant," Julian said.

"Bed or wed?" Akila asked.

"Bed…I'm not crazy enough to wed her. She'd kill me in my sleep!"

"Not as fast as Lieutenant Lurk would, I bet" Rinaldo added. "Although, I think we can all agree that Lurk…prefers her own team, so to speak?"

"Agreed," all of my brothers said in unison.

I shook my head and laughed. "You all never cease to amaze me, you know that?"

"Well, what do you expect, Arissa?" Ardan asked. "There are _literally_ only two women here…You and Lieutenant Lurk. And, if we're going to be speaking honestly, you're much cuter than Lurk. Outsider's eyes, I suppose it's even excusable that you have carrot hair."

"It is not carrot colored," I said, defensively. "It is copper!"

"All in favor that copper looks like carrots?"

"Aye!" they all said in unison.

"Although, I have to wonder," Vladka said. "What is she going to look like when her hair grows out? She got the worst hack job out of all of us."

"I'm going to bet coin on the fact that she'll be more…exotic looking," Julian said.

"Same here," Akila added. "I'd take a Serkonan woman over…whatever Lurk is…any day."

"And this is why none of you have lovers," I said. "It is also why you will die, disease-ridden, after all of the Golden Cat prostitutes you bed."

"Right," Ardan said. "But do we get to die before, during, or after?"

I rolled my eyes, smiling softly. "You will die whenever the Outsider decides to claim your perverted souls. Come on. We should not be lazing around, lest we want Mentor Galia to hit us with the spoon again."

"I'm not afraid of Mentor Galia," Rinaldo stated proudly.

"Even after he disarmed you of your blade, knocked you flat on your ass, and beat you nearly to _death_ with a wooden spoon?" I asked. "You are forever going to be known as the assassin who lost to a wooden spoon, Rinaldo. How does that make you feel?"

"It's not my fault I was having an off day! And at least I don't have carrot colored hair."

"And I cannot help that it is my natural color. Yet, it is better to be known as carrot hair, or carrot head, or whatever it is you want to call me, than being known as the one who lost to a _wooden spoon_."

Rinaldo sighed. "Okay…Okay, I guess you're right."

"It is okay, Rinaldo…You do not have to be ashamed of yourself."

"Why's that?"

"Because you do not scribble in a diary like a woman," I glanced over at Anatole, smirking.

"One day, Arissa, I'm going to make you pay for those words," Anatole growled.

"Wow, Anatole," I said. "Calm down. You do not need to get all serious over a joke."

"Maybe we should send Anatole to the Golden Cat," Vladka said. "Let him calm down a bit."

"Why don't we all just go to the Golden Cat?" Julian asked. "It'd be better than being tired, sore, and having our Master threatening to kill us every five minutes."

I secured my wristbow to its track, placed my blade through its loop on my belt, and secured my bolt pouches, as well as my vapor mask, also to my belts. I checked once, twice, three times that I had everything I needed, and that it was secured to my uniform correctly. If memory served me correctly from Master Daud's teachings, I had everything placed correctly.

I looked about the room at my brothers. Most of them were dressed. The rest of them were lazing about. And the ones who were dressed were fumbling with their equipment. _Well, at least I will avoid Master Daud's wrath today…_

"You six have fun doing…whatever it is you are doing," I said. "If you need me, I will be in the dining hall."

My brothers were too busy discussing the Golden Cat to even acknowledge that I had said anything. Which was perfectly fine by me. If they wanted to tempt the fate of our Master and Mentors, that was on them. I, on the other hand, was going to be a good student and obey Mentor Galia's command and be ready for whatever trials Master Daud had awaiting us.

Life in Oracle Natividad's Asylum was…intriguing, I suppose. The quarters that my brothers and I share used to be the room where trepanations were performed. Sometimes, late in the night, I swear that you can hear the sound of bone being broken by a hand drill. And, long before Master Daud had cropped my hair close to my scalp, I would wake up with clumps of my hair having been seemingly…sheared off, or torn out, or…something. The strange thing was, I never felt a thing.

Stranger still, I was not the only person who had experienced that.

I was also not the only person who got their hair cropped to their scalp because of it.

When I spoke to Master Assassin Thomas about our experiences in the trepanation room, he told me that the Masters had it worse. Their quarters were located in the former hydrotherapy rooms. He said that the Masters hear screeching of women and children. It sounded innocent enough.

That was until he told me that, after they hear the screeches, they awaken from their sleep, acting as though they are drowning. Both Master Assassin Rulfio and Mentor Rapha coughed up river water from their lungs, I was told.

No one knows who Oracle Natividad is. They do not even know if she was truly a member of the Oracular Order. Yet, my brothers and I can say for certain that this place has an astonishingly dark energy. You can actually experience "echoes" of the past, and what incantations, séances, rituals, etcetera, were performed here.

We have all been affected by these "echoes" of the past. They have forced us to be placed under infirmary care, due to the intense headaches; severe nausea and the inability to eat or drink; severe fevers; and a lot of other unpleasant ailments.

You know…the last time I checked, "natural philosophical research" did not include the occult. And we are very intimate with the occult. Yet, the things that Master Daud practices _pale_ in comparison to what was once practiced within these walls.

The halls of the Asylum were long and labyrinth-like. Yet, even after its many years of abandonment, it has stayed well-intact. _Not to mention the fact that we have been taking care of the building…_ Whale oil lamps and chandeliers were used to keep the halls illuminated during the night.

And it did nothing to cull the feeling of unease I felt as I walked to the dining hall.

"And just where do you think you're going, little girl?" I heard a voice behind me say.

I stopped, dead in my tracks, and turned around to face…Lieutenant Billie Lurk. _Lieutenant_ Lurk was of average height and dark of skin. Her eyes, as well as slightly longer than jaw-length hair, were dark brown. Today, she had painted her eyes with turquoise eyeshadow.

"Is there something you need from me, Lieutenant Lurk?" I asked, trying to be respectful. _By the Outsider, I cannot wait for the day that I become a Master Assassin, and I can at least_ somewhat _challenge her!_

"Daud told me to come and find you," Lurk replied in her usual vitriolic tone of voice. "He wants to speak to you. Privately, I might add."

"Have I done something to displease him?"

Lurk shrugged. "Knowing you? Probably not. I'd bet coin on the fact that you're Daud's favorite out of all the novices."

I raised an eyebrow. _She is trying to bait me again, I just know it._ "I am?"

"Don't play stupid, girl," Lurk grabbed me by the arm and literally started to drag me down the hallway. And I let her. I had no choice _but_ to let her. Novices have no say against their Master or Mentor's actions. "It's clear when Daud starts playing favorites. And you won the damned lottery by the looks of it."

"Lieutenant, what have I ever done to you to earn your scorn?" I asked, genuinely curious. "You are older than me, and we both joined Master Daud in the same year. We are also the only girls here…"

"And that should matter to me, why?"

I sighed. _Forget I even said anything. Talking to you is like talking to a brick wall. It is pointless, and gets you nowhere._

Lurk dragged me all the way to the Administrative Wing of the Asylum, where she and Master Daud kept their quarters. Master Daud also kept his office in this wing.

Once we reached Master Daud's office, Lurk knocked on the door three times. After a moment's delay, she opened the door, shoved me through it, and closed it behind me. _Seriously, Lurk?_

Master Daud was sitting behind his desk, scrutinizing the contents of a book. His steely-blue eyes never once looked up at me. I clasped my hands behind my back and stood at attention. I also chose to remain silent. I knew it was what my Master was expecting of me.

After a few minutes, Master Daud looked up at me and said, "Good morning, Arissa."

I unclasped my hands, then placed my right fist on my chest and slashed downwards, to my side. This was how we bowed to our Master, though we typically bow with our blade in hand. "Good morning, Master. How may I serve you?"

Master Daud stood up, and walked over to me. Master Daud stood at least six feet in height, his skin the color of dusk, the color of Serkonos. His eyes were steely-blue, and his right eye bore a scar that went down his cheek. His hair was kept short and neat, and was the color of coal.

"As I'm sure Galia told you, the Novices are having trials today," he said. "However, I pulled you aside for a reason. Do you know why, Arissa?"

"No, Master, I do not," I replied. "Have I done something wrong?"

"No, you haven't. Analyze the situation, and you'll find your answer. Why would I have you, and you alone, pulled aside?"

I contemplated my answer. "There are five Mentors, and seven Novices. However, there are also three Master Assassins who act as "commanders" over their own rank, which means that, because of their status, they can also act as Mentors. And Mentor Galia never said that you were going to be overseeing our trials. He only said that you wanted us out of bed."

Master Daud stayed silent.

"Five Mentors, seven Novices…You are having one of the Commanders step in as a Mentor, thus making six of them…Yet, that would still leave one Novice who does not have a Mentor for their trial…" I paused. "You pulled me aside because you wanted to oversee my trial. Am I correct, Master?"

"Very good. Now, let me ask you another question, Arissa," Master Daud said. "What do you know about _i cadaveri ululanti_?"


	2. A Student Eager to Learn

**_Chapter Two_**

 ** _A Student Eager to Learn_**

* * *

I tilted my head, curiosity overtaking me. I have never heard Master Daud speak in Serkonan before. That is, until now. _Why is that, I wonder?_

"I know nothing of these… _i cadaveri ululanti,_ Master," I said, then asked him, "Are they one of Dunwall's street gangs?"

"No. They're not a street gang. Though, you could technically label them as a gang," Master Daud replied. " _I cadaveri ululanti_ is a term I composed for the former patients of this Asylum. You know them by a different name. Does Lunatic mean anything to you?"

"Yes, Master. It does."

"I thought it would. You're from Serkonos. And I know that Serkonan is your native language, since I had to teach you how to speak in the common tongue. What does _i cadaveri ululanti_ stand for?"

" _I cadaveri ululanti_ translates to 'the howling corpses' in Serkonan. In the common tongue, however, there can be a few variations."

Master Daud nodded his approval. "Very good. But why do you think I call them that?"

I paused, contemplating my answer. _I cadaveri ululanti,_ the howling corpses… _The mentally ill tend to be taken from districts of Dunwall that they would not be missed from. So, that would mean prostitutes, street urchins, Heretic's Branded Overseers, thieves, gang members…_

 _In that case, though, not all the people taken would be mentally ill. Natural philosophers are great at telling lies to get what they want. A perfectly sane person could be convicted of being mentally ill, and then brought here for experimentation…_

 _That would mean that the howling corpses are named that because…Because…_

"I do not know, Master," I answered finally. "Why do you call them _i cadaveri ululanti_?"

"In life, these people were most likely mentally ill. So they were lunatics in life. Were they not?"

"I…thought they were still alive, Master?"

"If you consider skin, bone, and being extraordinarily sensitive to sound as _alive_ , then yes, Arissa," Master Daud retorted. "I'm sure they're perfectly alive."

I bowed my head, regretful that I had said anything.

"People who suffer from lunacy are often branded as lunatics. Then, they're snatched up by people like natural philosophers, and taken to places like this for…inhumane practices. Those patients are no longer alive in the traditional meaning of the word. They're nothing more than howling corpses, in their purgatory state, since they are neither alive nor dead."

"May I ask you a question, Master?"

"What is it?"

"Why did we barricade _i cadaveri ululanti_ on the opposite side of the Asylum's grounds? Would we not have been better off killing them? Or, at the most, ending their suffering?"

"Are you a doctor or an assassin, Arissa?"

"An assassin, Master."

"We don't end suffering," Master Daud replied sternly. "We often end up creating it. Your next question will be why. The answer is not because we want to sow the seeds of suffering, but because we're _paid_ to kill people. It doesn't matter who they are, and what they've done. It doesn't matter if they don't deserve to die, or they do. Once we get a contract, we end our target's life. We don't save it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master, I understand perfectly."

"Now, to some degree, you are right. We would have been better off killing _i cadaveri ululanti_. However, it's a two-sided blade in this situation. They pose a risk to us as long as they are alive, because at any given moment, they could break that barricade. But on that same coin, they're useful. Sound galls them. And if they happen to find the source of the galling sound, do you know what happens?"

"The object of sound dies…" I paused. "You use them as a security system."

"Yes. That's why they are as useful to us, as they are a risk to us. As long as we don't disturb their location, they'll leave us alone." It was my Master's turn to pause. "You've been a Novice for over seven years now, Arissa. I've seen that glimmer in your eyes. You're frustrated. Aren't you?"

I looked away from Master Daud and whispered, shamefully, "Yes, Master."

"Seven years is a very long time, isn't it?" Master Daud began to pace back and forth, in a nonchalant manner. "But what I'm starting to find strange is that you've yet to develop any kind of supernatural power or enhancement."

Master Daud suddenly slammed me up against the wall, his blade pressed firmly against my throat. _By the Outsider! He did not even move!_

I had not even immediately realized I had screamed.

"Are you loyal to me, Arissa Daurana?" he asked, deadpan.

I was too panicked to answer his question.

Master Daud wrapped his hand around my throat, and squeezed.

I struggled against him, as I began to gasp for desperately needed air.

"Are you _loyal_ to me, Arissa _Gwethalyn_ Daurana?" Master Daud repeated, his voice laced with winter.

 _Master Daud never says the full name he gave me unless it is absolutely serious…_

"Y-y-yes, Master!" I stammered. "I…I am…loyal…to you…"

Master Daud gazed into my eyes, as if trying to discern my words, truth from lie. Seeming to have found his answer, he released me from his grasp. I fell onto the floor with a loud _thud!_

 _I did not know my feet had left the floor…_

I coughed and took a few deep breaths, trying to stop my head from spinning.

"Stand up," Master Daud commanded.

I looked at my Master, hesitantly.

"Stand up," he echoed.

Shakily, I stood up…

Only to have my Master backhand me, and once again, I fell to the floor with the same resounding _thud!_

I glanced up at my Master, staring him dead in the eyes.

He looked back at me, and smiled. "You're inquisitive for your age. That's good. I don't need dim-witted assassins in my ranks. But then again, I've spent nearly seven years raising you. You should know enough by now what I expect from you. Stand up."

Once more, I stood up.

And I defiantly glared into my Master's eyes.

"If you don't develop some kind of supernatural ability or enhancement by the end of the month, you're going to have to choose a profession. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, Master," I said, sheepishly.

 _Outsider's eyes, I can never glare at Master Daud as long as I always want to…_

 _I do not know if he will kill me for my defiance, or if he actually appreciates it…_

Master Daud backhanded me again. "Don't go from being defiant to being a coward. You're not a spineless brat. Words are the absolute _last_ thing that should ever wound you. And, unlike most people your age, you know how to maim, paralyze, and kill a man."

"You are right, Master," I said, trying not to flinch from the pain of his strikes. "Forgive me. It will not happen again."

He rolled his eyes, then said, "It'd better not, Arissa. Now, do you prefer the blade, the crossbow, or the study of poisons? If you don't wish to stay in the Business of Death, you can become a bookkeeper, a draftswoman, a supply runner, an infirmary doctor, or a forger. Your preference?"

"I…would like to stay with the blade, Master," I said. "If it is also possible, Master, I would like to study poisons, as well."

Master Daud nodded. "That can be arranged. Now, follow me. It's time that I began your _real_ test."

"Yes, Master," I replied, and followed Master Daud out of his office.


	3. Earning the Right of First Blood

**_Chapter Three_**

 ** _Earning the Right of First Blood_**

* * *

Master Daud was leading me through hallway upon hallway, Wing upon Wing. Soon, we were out on the grounds of Oracle Natividad's Asylum, greeted by frigid air that bit through the thick leather of our frock coats. It would be dawn soon.

As we walked across the grounds, dark realization hit me. Master Daud must have had an immense test planned for me, if we were literally going to the other side of the Asylum. Truth be told, I had an idea of where he was taking me. Though, I dared not to ask him. I had no desire to tempt fate, and be thrown against another wall.

Or a tree. I do not wish to be thrown against a tree and be known as the assassin who lost a fight to an inanimate object. That was Rinaldo's legacy. It would not be mine.

Mentor Killian once told me that a person's stride gives away a lot of who they are as a person. It is how you have to pick out your poisoning targets. Yet, that skill has more than one use. Mentor Galia uses the same skill in order to pick out assassination targets, or eavesdropping targets.

In this case, I was paying close attention to Master Daud's stride. My Master was a mystery to me. To all of us, actually. He is harsh. At times, he can be outright sadistic. Yet, his stride told me that he was a man who was more than confident in his own abilities. And I can say, for certain, that he has killed more people than years I have been alive.

And that is a rather…chilling thought. He has taken more than sixteen lives. _Is our world that corrupt? Or does Master Daud just really enjoy his work?_

You do not incur the wrath of a man like this. In the darkest corners of Gristol, they call our Master _The Knife of Dunwall._ They say that he is a _legend_ among the denizens of the underworld, of both criminal and occult in nature, as well as Dunwall's nobility.

My Mentors have said this is for a _very_ good reason.

I have yet to see Master Daud kill. And, truth be told? I am not sure if I should be excited to watch my Master work, or if I should fear the day that I get the opportunity to do so.

"We're here," Master Daud said suddenly.

I shook my head clear of my idle thoughts. "Where are we, Master?" I asked, just to be certain.

Master Daud smiled darkly. "I think you know where we are."

He was right, of course. I did know where we were. He always has his reasons, I have come to learn. Though, it did nothing to stop my chest from tightening, or to stifle the sudden rising of intense fear that I felt.

My Master had taken me from the Administrative Wing, all the way to the Shrieking Pass, as my Master Assassin brothers called it.

He had taken me to the barricade, where we had imprisoned _i cadaveri ululanti_.

"Yes, Master," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

 _Dodge. Now!_

I recoiled away from my Master just barely in time to avoid his strike.

"Don't show fear," he growled. "An assassin never shows fear."

I bowed my head. "Yes, Master. Forgive me, Master."

Master Daud sighed, trying to stifle his irritation. He muttered something under his breath in Serkonan, and I do not think he knew that I had heard what he said. What he said translates to, "Damn the Black-eyed Bastard and his constant beleaguering. You try my patience, more than I ever thought a kid possibly could. On some days, I regret that I listened to the Outsider, and bought your freedom from that witch in Serkonos."

I made especially sure that my face did not betray my emotions. I could never recall my childhood, and now I suddenly knew a very, very small piece of it. I was…a servant…maybe even a slave…to a witch in Serkonos? _Am I the daughter of a witch? Yet, he did not say the witch was my mother…_

 _Maybe…maybe I should investigate this, one day._

Well…I managed to avoid the first strike.

I was not as lucky when it came to the second.

"Are you even paying attention, Arissa?" Master Daud said, tersely.

I cursed in Serkonan under my breath. _I did not think I had trailed off! Curse my own stupidity._ "Yes, Master," I replied, obediently.

Master Daud shook his head. Yet, I caught a glimpse of the glare in his eyes. _Did he just realize that I had heard what he said?_ "You've been a Novice for seven years now," he began, assuming his role as an instructor. "And while it's clear you don't, as of yet, possess any form of supernatural enhancement or ability, you do have rather impressive combat and stealth abilities for your age. In other words, you haven't been a complete waste of my time.

"So, I want to see just how well you've been paying attention to your training. This is a live stealth test. Your boots, just like mine and everyone else's, have been coated with a specialized resin that completely eliminates the sound of our footsteps. However, it doesn't eliminate the ability to step on a pile of leaves, a puddle of water, or a creaking floorboard.

"Your Trial is going to test your ability to remain unseen and unheard. I want to see what you're capable of. So, if you survive this test, congratulations. You'll earn the Right of First Blood. If you fail, well…May the Outsider have mercy on your soul."

I will not lie for a moment. Nervous, even fearful, does not begin to describe how I feel right now. Given what I just learned about _i cadaveri ululanti,_ I already know that if they somehow detect me…I am going to die. Yet, if I can make it through their territory unseen…

Not only will I get to kill my first man, I will be well on my way to becoming a Master Assassin!

I bowed to my Master. "I will not fail you, Master."

"Words are empty, Arissa. You can fail at any given moment. Now, put on your mask. You're going to be performing this Trial in your full uniform."

"Yes, Master."

I unhooked my vapor mask from my belt, and I put it on. Although, I had to readjust the straps of the mask. I forgot that the last time I had worn it I still had my jaw-length hair. And mind you, my hair was very thick, with a healthy amount of curl that rested at the ends of it. Putting on my mask was a nightmare and a half. _Outsider's eyes, I miss my hair. It gets so damned cold in the trepanation room…_

"Do I…do I have the mask on correctly, Master?" I asked him.

"Turn around," Master Daud commanded.

I obeyed his command.

"How many times have you worn your mask?"

"Only a handful of times, Master," I replied. "Mentor Galia only started having us use them about two weeks ago."

"Do you feel this, here?" Master Daud asked, pulling on a specific part of the strap.

"Yes, Master, I do."

"When you're readjusting the strap, you need to make sure this clasp is secured all the way. Since the vapor mask has a horrible tendency to stick to your face when you wear it, you won't typically notice that the clasp isn't secured. One wrong move, however, and your mask will fall clean off. Galia should have taught you this, and I'm surprised he hasn't. I'll be speaking with him about that later. You're going to practice putting the mask on much more frequently. After enough practice, it'll become second-nature to you."

"Yes, Master," I said, turning around and pulling my hood over my head. "Thank you."

Master Daud nodded, unlocking the barricade's gate. "Good luck, Arissa. I'll be waiting on the other side of the barricade, near the entrance tunnel. May the Outsider have mercy on your soul."

I walked through the barricade, facing Master Daud one last time. He closed the gate, and I heard him lock it behind me. My heart was pounding so hard, it felt like the organ was in my throat. I was even anxiously tapping my fingers against the hilt of my blade, and I began to murmur a Serkonan prayer under my breath.

All I had to do was go through half of an Asylum that had immense decay; the horrific smell of dead bodies; rats; mould; _i cadaveri ululanti_ that want to tear my face off the moment I make even a _squeak_ of a sound; and Outsider only knows what else!

 _All I have to do is make it to the entrance tunnel…_

 _I only have to make it to the entrance tunnel…_

I took a deep breath to calm my nerves, and slowly, I began to advance forward.

This is going to be easy…Right?

 _Outsider's eyes, who am I kidding? This is not going to be easy!_


	4. A Student, Humbled

**_Chapter Four_**

 ** _A Student, Humbled_**

* * *

When I was twelve years old, Mentor Dodge gave me a book for my birthday. It was a collection of short stories. Horror stories. The tales depicted places like a sinister manor somewhere in Tyvia that was inhabited by a coven of Pandyssian witches; a cabin out in the countryside of Gristol that was owned by a deranged serial killer of noble blood; and an abandoned hospital in Morley, with spirits that could possess a person and forever walk in their skin.

Needless to say, those were only some of the stories, and each one of them gave me nightmares when I was a little girl. Ironically, at the time, we had been living in an old log cabin. That was long before the Whalers had begun expanding, when we only numbered in the handful. We did not come to Oracle Natividad's Asylum for Natural Philosophical Research until a few years ago, when we became more than a handful of people.

The Shrieking Pass reminded me of those old horror stories. Specifically, the one about the manor. The story was titled simply, " _Let the Dead Teach the Living._ " The narrator of the story spoke of tubs filled with blood and sinew; a boiling soup pot filled with eyeballs, carrots, Tyvian pears, and whale meat; and tile floors, permanently colored dark brown because of dried blood. The manor was said to smell like mould, decaying bodies, and a mixture of human and rat excrement.

It was also said that no matter how many candles you lit, there was never enough light to illuminate up to the vaulted ceilings. Unspeakable horrors, like spiders bigger than a man's fist and bodies entangled in the webs, were only the beginning of what inhabited those ceilings.

I do not know why…That story has always stayed vividly in my imagination. I have always wondered if the serial killer in the story was based on the woman named Granny Rags. I have heard some truly disturbing stories about that woman. I have never been told if they were the truth, or if they were lies.

I am not sure that I really want to know the answer anymore…

In an uncanny way, the Shrieking Pass had begun to resemble that story. Minus quite a few details, of course, but…still…As I sauntered through the labyrinth-like hallways of the Pass, I only grew happier that I had never gotten the opportunity to eat this morning.

This place puts the word _repugnant_ to shame!

And it is truly saying something that the smell of this place is able to penetrate the _industrial strength air filter_ that is equipped on these vapor masks! These masks were created to protect whale oil refinement factory workers from the harsh fumes given off by the whale oil. Naturally, you would think that this would mean that nothing can penetrate the air filter. Apparently, I found the one place that can.

Truth be told, I have lost track of time. I somehow managed to get myself completely lost in the Shrieking Pass. So lost, in fact, that I have yet to see a single _i cadaveri ululanti_. This is…probably not a good thing…

Regardless, I kept pressing forward. What other options did I have? Master Daud literally locked me in here, and it is not like I can transverse out of this place…

I sighed.

I heard the sound of water dripping into a puddle, and I felt a rat scurry past my boot. A shiver coursed through my body. If Master Daud chose this test to try and humble me, I think it is working.

I never want to come back to a place like this.

As quietly as I could, I started humming, " _The Drunken Whaler_."

Do not judge me.

Whalers, in both senses, can have fun, too…even in life or death situations…

* * *

It is official.

I have completely lost track of time…and where I am.

I froze in place, straining to listen to even the faintest sound. I could have sworn I just heard something. It was not my imagination…

Was it?

I placed my hand on the hilt of my blade, and cautiously pressed forward.

That was when I heard it.

A shrill scream.

My eyes widened in dismay, and I cursed under my breath in Serkonan. I was trapped in the middle of a tight hallway, with nowhere to go. If I were to get surrounded now…

 _Okay…I do not want to think about that…_

I heard another scream, and now I began to panic. Master Daud had not taught me how to deal with a situation like this! What do I do? Do I run? Do I try and somehow get myself onto the ceiling?

I do not know!

I shook my head and took off running, hoping for the best. Thank the Outsider that the resin on my boots was muffling my footfalls. _Another scream. Closer this time._

And there they were. There were seven of them, surrounding each other like they were cattle relaxing in the grasses on a hot summer day. Master Daud was right. They were nothing more than shuffling corpses that could scream.

Even though I am an assassin in training, I cannot help but feel…saddened, at seeing humans turned into hideous creatures like this. And in that moment, I realized how easily I could have become one of these hideous souls.

I was choosing my footsteps with such care…

And that was when I heard it. A reverberating _crack!_

My legs fell through the floor, and I could not resist the urge to scream, as I hung on for dear life…

 _By the Outsider! I…Am I going to die?_

I watched in horror as each _i cadaveri ululanti_ slowly craned their necks to stare at me. They screeched in primal hunger. My heart felt as though it were going to leap out of my chest. And the worst part of it all was knowing that I could have been firing my wristbow at them, had I not needed to be clinging so desperately for life…

I began to try and pull myself up, yet I was too late. One of _i cadaveri ululanti_ jumped me, grabbing my arm and pulling at me. Its howl sent a chilling shiver through my entire body. Tears ran down my face, as I knew I was about to die…

So I closed my eyes, not wanting to see my arm get torn into bloody ribbons.

I felt the creature wrap its hand around my arm, and I almost fell unconscious from the horror.

…

" _What an interesting hand fate has dealt you_." A male voice I had never heard before said. " _You're quite the peculiar little girl, do you know that?_ "

I opened my eyes, and I was…stunned.

There was man with dark hair and eyes that were completely the color of coal…floating before me. Not standing. Floating. He wore magnificent finery, and his fingers were adorned with intricate rings. And he was smiling at me. Not menacingly. Contentedly?

Time had completely stopped around us. My arm was still being held by _i cadaveri ululanti_. Yet, everything was literally…frozen! _How is this possible? Who is this man?_

 _Wait…Black eyes…_

 _Is this the "Black-eyed Bastard" that Master Daud has mentioned?_

"Who are you?" I whispered, trying to calm my breathing.

The man swept his hand across him, and sent _i cadaveri ululanti_ that was holding me captive flying across the room. It slammed into the wall, impacting upon it with a sickening _crack!_

The dark-eyed man leaned down to me, and took my hands in his.

" _You know a lot more about me than you realize you do,_ " he replied, lifting me up onto my feet. " _I am the Outsider._ "

"You…you are the Outsider? In the flesh?" I stammered. "I…I do not know how to thank you for this…"

The Outsider gave me a mysterious smile. " _Consider yourself one of the very privileged few, whose life is worthy of my attention._ "

"Why me, then? I am nothing more than a worthless Novice…"

" _Worthless? You are far from such, child. Even though I am simply an observer of all things, I can see everything. I see forever. And I've seen your future. It will definitely be intriguing to watch as you mature into a consequential figure in the Underworld of Dunwall._ "

My head was spinning. _So many questions…so few answers…And I am somehow intriguing? I find that hard to believe…_

"Why me?" I echoed. "You rarely intervene directly in human affairs. If you are an observer, then why save my life?"

The Outsider laughed, amused at my words. " _So many questions you ask. Just as many answers that I will not give you. Not yet. You have to earn them first. I will say this, however. Just as your Master has been testing you, I have been testing you, as well. The future is a very, very boring place. This particular…weave of Time was the most interesting. I needed you alive for it. You have a very significant part to play in the coming months. Now, listen closely, mortal child…_

" _In the coming months, perhaps even the coming years, the fate of the Empire will rest on the shoulders of someone you know dearly. However, the fate of the Whalers will rest on your shoulders and yours alone. You may not know it right now, but Daud holds you in higher esteem than he lets on that he does. He's going to make you work for everything you could possibly want. When he sees that you're truly deserving of it, then, and only then, will he give you what you so desperately seem to seek…_

 _"_ _Daud will never understand how the Arcane Bond works. What he doesn't realize is that I hold ultimate control of who is deserving of its power. As of today, child, I'd say you've earned its power. Consider this as a parting gift between acquaintances. I am not giving you my Mark, no…but I am giving you the next best thing."_

The palm of my hand and parts of my forearm began to burn agonizingly. I gritted my teeth, trying to fight the pain. The Outsider watched me with steady amusement.

" _How you use this newfound power falls to you. I've bestowed upon you the power of transversals and tetherings. Whether or not you gain some of Daud's more extraordinary abilities depends on you. Perhaps you'll learn how to Gaze at the world through eyes of the Void. Perhaps you'll be able to Bend Time to your will. Or, perhaps you'll be able to turn your victims into a pile of ash._

" _And now, I must return to the Void. I truly advise that you heed my words, Arissa Daurana. Know this, however: I will be keeping a very close eye on you,_ " the Outsider paused. " _One more thing: 'Do not focus on the destination of your transversal with your eyes. That is folly, and will limit the potential of the power. Instead, focus on where you wish yourself to be standing, and it will be so…'_ "

The Outsider suddenly vanished, and Time resumed once again. My forearm and palm were still burning. Itching, almost.

I feel…different. Strangely so…

 _Why are i cadaveri ululanti swarming me so fast!? Wait, did one just grab my leg!? What is happening!?_

 _"_ _Do not focus on the destination of your transversal with your eyes…"_

 _I once heard Mentor Galia say that to the others…What if I use Master Daud as a…a focus?_

 _Here goes nothing!_

I wanted to scream. My body felt as though it were being ripped apart at some unholy level, piece by piece. It was as though I was…melting, almost. Into what, I truly do not wish to know. Outsider's eyes, transversals feel so unnatural…

 _Ow! Wall…Brick wall…_

I cursed under my breath in Serkonan. By the Outsider, I am…so dizzy…

And now my entire body hurts…even worse…than before…

"Arissa, you're still alive?" Master Daud said, genuinely surprised. "Where in the Void did you come from?"

"I did it, Master," I whispered. "I survived…the Shrieking Pass…"

I felt my eyes roll into the back of my head, and darkness suddenly clouded my vision.

Before I even knew what had happened, I was out cold.

The darkness had taken me into its warm embrace.


	5. Contemplation of Her Arcane Bond

**_Chapter Five_**

 ** _Contemplation of Her Arcane Bond_**

* * *

 ** _M_** _-O-E-1-14-18-36_

 ** _S_** _: N, A. G. D._

 ** _O_** _.N.A. - f - N.P.R._

 ** _R_** _.D. – T.C.o.D. – I.o.G._

 ** _-X_X_X_X-_**

 ** _Seven years_**. I've spent the last **_seven_** years raising, schooling, and training this brat. Never once did any supernatural ability or enhancement surface. Finally, after seven years, I send her into the "Shrieking Pass," as the men have dubbed it, and she **_transverses_** out of it?

How? Why?

I've known for quite a few years now that I cannot control the Arcane Bond; who gets it, who does not, etcetera. But this instance is…strange. Is it because of her age? Was she not mature enough for the Bond? She will be seventeen soon. In the Month of Darkness, to be precise. Was she put under greater duress than I have ever been able to put her under?

All I have are questions. At this moment in time, I possess no answers. Another mystery; one I can't yet solve. It's been a never-ending cycle of them ever since the Black-eyed Bastard gave me his Mark.

Arissa's condition is "more or less" stable, I was told by Rapha. He said that, "Her body is in a state of uncertain shock," due to the fact that the first transversal she ever performed was long distance. She should make a full recovery in a few more days, when her body's mana restores itself fully, naturally, without the use of herbs, or rats, or poisonous elixirs. It will take time to condition her body to handle at least **_two_** long distance transversals a day, but I feel as though she'll be able to handle it.

Arissa finally gaining the ability to transverse has changed things. I was convinced that she was going to be yet another wasted talent that I'd have to throw off to the side. So far, she's been steadily proving me wrong. Part of me is thankful for that. The other part of me isn't. I need to devise a proper test to give her, to see if she is truly Master Assassin material.

Kieron, Thomas, and the men I have appointed as Mentors speak highly of her abilities with a blade. I find myself in agreement with them. Lurk and some of the others, however, disagree. They want me to execute Arissa. Not yet, I've told them. Let her prove herself, just like they had to do. It's strange, that they're so infuriated over a mere Novice. It's a situation I will have to monitor. The last thing I need is to have tension in the ranks. Back to the matter at hand, though.

Truth be told, I almost find it a shame that the kid was slaveborn. The nobles would **_love_** to have a kid with this level of skill protecting them. I'd even go as far to say that she could have apprenticed under the current Royal Protector, Corvo Attano, had her circumstances been different. If she had the training then that she has now, perhaps she could have participated in the _Blade Verbena_. Perhaps she still can. It could prove useful to have an assassin hidden within the ranks of the Grand Serkonan Guard. Something worth considering, at the least.

Why did the Black-eyed Bastard keep insisting that I buy her freedom from that witch? Will she be just as adept with magic as she is with a blade? Will she be a woman to be feared, when she enters her prime? Will she be feared as a mere teenager? More questions. More mysteries. Fortunately, time will be able to provide me with answers to these questions.

After giving it some contemplation, I believe I have the perfect "crucible" in mind for Arissa Gwethalyn Daurana. Let's see if she'll be up to its challenge.


	6. Falling From Grace

**_Chapter Six_**

 ** _Falling From Grace_**

* * *

 _Back and forth…back and forth…back and forth…back…and…forth…_

I felt the touch of her dank skin against my own. I felt her hair as it danced across my face. I heard the sound of chains. They were clinking together in perfect harmony to a sonata of sobs.

 _Crash! Crack! The groaning of wood_.

We lurched forward.

They screamed in fear.

"What did we hit, sir!?" someone yelled from above.

My eyes fluttered open, and I shook my head clear.

 _What in the Outsider's name…_

 _Where am I?_

Thanks to my training, my eyes quickly adapted to the darkness surrounding me. I was in the cargo hold of a ship, shackled within the confines of a cage. There were a few dozen of us. All of them were young women and children. And they were…eccentric in appearance, to say the least. Yet, all of them had been stripped naked.

 _Oh, great…So was I…_

 _This is almost worse than losing to a wooden spoon…_

A number had been painted upon the chest of each girl. I was number fourteen. Ironic, since I became a Whaler on the Fourteenth Day of the Month of Songs, in the year 1829.

"Where are they taking us!?" one girl screamed.

"To the place of no return, I bet," another girl answered.

 _How did I end up here? I vaguely recall falling unconscious at Master Daud's feet. Did he…? Did my brothers…?_

 _No…It has to be Lurk's doing._

"I shouldn't even be here, I'm not a witch!" Girl Six yelled. "I don't even know what a bone charm is!"

"I have heard that this place is only a morbid rumor," I said, a cryptic tone to my voice. _Did I really just say that? What is…wrong with my voice?_ "Yet, the intelligent ones know that the place truly exists."

"What kind of place are we going to, then?" one of the girls asked.

"We are all young. We are all, shall we say, _unique_ in appearance. Am I right to assume we were taken from all walks of life? Some of us are killers for hire. Some of us are prostitutes. Some of us may even be adulterous wives, or runaway children. Have you truly not heard the stories of where people like us go?"

All of the girls were deathly silent. Had it not been for the groaning of the ship, the clinking of the shackles, and the chatter of the crew above, you could have heard a pin drop.

"I assure you, it is no rumor, my dear ladies. I can even assure you that the more tears you allow to fall down those pretty little cheeks, the harsher the punishments will be. In fact, you will be the ones who die first."

"They're going to kill us!?" Girl Twenty-six cried out.

I felt a smile creeping its way onto my lips. "Not right away, no. They will humiliate you first. Make sure that you are nice and broken for them. They will want you to obey their every command. Their pathetic Seven Strictures. They will order you to jump. Your reply will be, 'How high, Master Overseer?'

"If you are a good little girl for them, maybe, _just maybe_ , they will spare your life, drop your charges, and release you back into 'civilized society.' If not? Well…Kiss those pretty little necks of yours goodbye."

"You're a monster!" Girl Nineteen bellowed.

"You are right," I said, dispassionately. Then, I hissed at them like a cat.

All of the girls screamed at the top of their lungs.

I could not help but burst out in laughter.

 _What is happening to me? I…I am not this sinister of a person!_

 _…_ _Am I?_

"You do realize that it is not me that you should be afraid of. It is those that you will encounter at the asylum that you _should_ fear."

There was a loud bang, and once more, we lurched forward.

 _We must have docked._

"You're nothing more than a Serkonan dog!" the woman next to me growled.

I rolled my eyes. "Save your strength, my dear lady. A weakling like you is going to need all the strength she can possibly muster, just to survive the first day."

"I'd listen to that _Serkonan dog,_ if I were you, whore," a burly man said as he approached our cage, a lantern in his hand. "All of you stand up. The staff wants to inspect you before they bring you in."

They hesitated. I obeyed.

"It is not a hard concept to obey a command," I said, looking at the girls behind me. "Outsider's eyes, I can tell by looking at you that most of you are whores. Showing off your bodies should be as easy as breathing for you."

The burly man laughed. "I like your attitude, Fourteen. It's just a shame that you're going to die in this place."

"No. Others will die much sooner than I will."

He reached his hand through the bars of the cage, grabbing my face. "Confidence, eh? The Overseers are going to enjoy breaking you."

"Hands off the merchandise, Captain Thwaite," said the man entering the cargo hold.

The man was dressed in white asylum scrubs and a golden mask. Behind him, there were approximately a dozen orderlies. They were dressed in the typical garb of the Abbey's Overseers.

Captain Thwaite let go of me, taking a few steps back to let the orderlies approach the cage. "Stand up, you maggots!" he bellowed.

The girls whimpered, finally doing what they were told. Several orderlies began to "check" us over. You can only imagine what they were doing to us. Yet, the amount of tears that were spilled was truly pathetic.

"You said that all of these women are blasphemers, yes?" the white-clad zealot said.

"Yes, of course."

The zealot nodded. "Excellent. Then, on behalf of the Abbey of the Everyman, we thank you for your service and devotion to the Seven Strictures. Your payment will be waiting for you in Cullero."

The Captain unlocked our cage, while the orderlies arranged us in a single-file line. They yanked upon our chains, hollering at us to march as we ascended to the docks…

…The docks of High Overseer Francis Perry's Asylum for Sacrilegious Women.

 _How do I know that? I have never heard of this place before…_

 _…_ _Have I?_

It was a full moon, the sky besieged by thousands upon thousands of stars. Wherever we were, there was snow covering the grounds. The starlight was scintillating off of it. For the pathetic girls surrounding me, realization was dawning upon them that this was the "end of the line." There would be no "knight in shining armor" to come and save them.

 _There will not be one for me, either. Yet, I still do not understand how I got here._

 _Is this a test?_

 _By the Outsider, I hope it is a test…_

The orderlies dragged us through the baleful wrought iron gates of the Asylum. The gates, partially unlatched, creaked as the wind shook them. All of the girls screeched.

"Silence, heretics!" the zealots yelled at them.

I will give the zealots _some_ note of recognition. They knew how to make impressive buildings. The Asylum appeared as a castle, fit to be ruled by an Emperor or Empress. My impression of the place was solidified when we were corralled into the vestibule.

 _Who built this place, I wonder? There is no way it was always an asylum…_

There was a man standing with what I assumed to be a sister of the Oracular Order in the center of the vestibule. Both of them were lavishly dressed.

"Welcome to High Overseer Francis Perry's Asylum for Sacrilegious Women," he said. His accent sounded Tyvian. "My name is Vice Overseer Morven. Do you know why you're all here?"

Silence.

The Vice Zealot slowly prowled down the line of us, his eyes darting up and down as he inspected each girl. When he reached me, however, he stopped, taking my left hand in his.

His eyes were scrutinizing my Arcane Bond.

"You…People like you are the reason why you're here," he said, composedly. "You are a follower of the Outsider, aren't you?"

"No," I replied simply, sarcasm laced into my answer. "I was Marked by him."

Everyone in the room gasped.

"You should be burned at the stake for your heresy."

"And you and I both know that you are too cowardly to burn me. Just holding my Marked hand is terrifying you, underneath that mask. Is it not? I can feel you trembling."

The Vice Zealot backhanded me.

I laughed. Master Daud has hit me harder than that. "Is that the best you can do, Vice Zealot?"

He let go of my hand, and walked back over to the Oracular Sister. "Take the patients to their rooms. Patient One, you're coming with me," he paused. "Send Patient Fourteen to room Twenty-A-Six."

"Yes, sir!" the orderlies replied, unbinding us from our chains.

 _An opportunity? No…Too many guards. I need to save my…is it mana? Yes. Mana. I need to save that for the right moment to strike…_

The orderlies proceeded to drag us down a seemingly endless hallway lit entirely with whale oil lamps. When we arrived at Room Twenty-A-Six, I was literally thrown into the room. They slammed the giant steel door shut, locking me inside.

Idiots. I could transverse out of this in a heartbeat, if I really wanted to.

 _Because transversing out of the Shrieking Pass worked out so well for you, Arissa._

I shook my head clear, sitting down on the bed. There were brown rags on the bed. I…suppose I am to wear these?

I sighed. Outsider's eyes, that is disgusting. There is blood on these!

 _I bet all the coin that the Abbey gathers is taken by High Overseer Thaddeus Campbell, for his "needs."_

I dressed myself in the bloodied rags, and I gazed around the room. There was a single window, covered with wrought-iron bars to "prevent me from escaping." The bed had leather straps on it, undoubtedly to be restraining me with later. And as I looked around, I realized that there was a mirror on the wall.

Curious, I got up and walked over to the mirror, staring intently at my reflection. My eyes seemed to be a deeper indigo than usual, and my hair was starting to finally grow back. My arms were covered in minor cuts and bruises, undoubtedly inflicted by _i cadaveri ululanti._

I held my left forearm up to the mirror, examining my Arcane Bond. It was an…intricate marking. It was horrible, yet beautiful at the same time. It appeared to be literally seared into my skin.

 _Is the true Mark of the Outsider like this, I wonder?_

 _I have only seen glimpses of Master Daud's Mark…_

" _You are not the first mortal who has been fascinated with their own reflection,_ " a voice said behind me. It was the Outsider. " _Are you enjoying yourself, Arissa?_ "


	7. The Sting of a Betrayer's Knife

**_Chapter Seven_**

 ** _The Sting of a Betrayer's Knife_**

* * *

"Why are you here?" I asked, slowly turning on my heels to face the Outsider.

The Outsider stood before me, his arms crossed and his head tilted. He shook it slowly, as if disappointed. " _That isn't the question you should be asking, mortal._ "

I contemplated my answer. _I…suppose I need to take a different approach, then?_ "Why am I here?"

The Outsider shrugged. " _You already know why you're here._ "

"What?"

" _Really, mortal, do you think I am going to give you the answer to something you already know?_ "

I sighed, crossing my arms. "No…No, I suppose not. Yet, I do want to know why you _are_ here."

Another shrug. " _I find this situation diverting._ "

"What does that even mean?"

" _While you were unconscious, you felt the sting of a betrayer's knife. Do you know how much your life was worth? One…whole…coin. How does that make you feel, Arissa? You were sold for a single coin, and sent to a distant corner of the Empire for committing the crime of heresy. Ironic, really. You're too innocent to be an assassin. You haven't even killed yet._ "

My head was beginning to spin, and I sat down on the floor, not wanting to tempt movement. "My…my brothers betrayed me?" My voice was quivering. I anxiously tapped my fingers against my leg. "They…they sold me into…into…"

The Outsider leaned down to my level, and stared at me, deadpan. " _Yes. They betrayed you. Do you know why?_ "

"Why?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

" _They fear that in the days, months, years to come, you will be a threat to them. I know you will be a consequential figure in Dunwall's underworld, like Daud. I know your capabilities. Do you?_ "

For some unbeknownst reason, I decided to look the Outsider in those dark orbs he calls his eyes. Strangely, I was not afraid. I wanted to listen to him. I wanted to believe his words.

And I did not want to ask myself why.

" _One day, you are going to be faced with decisions that will weigh heavily on your conscience_ ," he began. " _However, despite your remorse, you will complete your contracts by any means necessary, even if it means the death of those you care about. But you have the option to walk down a different path. The question is…Will you?_ "

I stayed quiet, uncertain how to answer.

" _You are young. There are yet many paths from which you may choose. Do you know the story of High Overseer Francis Perry?_ "

I shook my head no.

" _They claim that he was the first Overseer to personally encounter and combat an incarnation of me,_ " the Outsider said, disdainfully. " _They will perceive your Arcane Bond as my Mark. As far as they are concerned, you are an incarnation of me._ "

"And what does that have to do with anything?" I asked sharply.

" _Right now, you are at a crossroads. The decisions you make will have irreversible consequences. In the coming days, your choices will determine the type of woman you will become; the kind of life you will lead; and the path you will walk. Are you ready to kill someone, Arissa? Are you ready to take that first step into eternal darkness?_ "

I hesitated.

I always knew I would end up taking a life sooner or later. I was always…excited for it. Now? Now, I…I do not know…

Am I truly ready to kill, in the name of blood and coin? How many people will I ultimately kill? Less than my Master, or more? _Yet, my brothers betrayed me!_

 _Did Master Daud know of this betrayal?_

 _No…If not…_

 _No…He would not do this to me…Would he?_

 _…_

 _Outsider's eyes…Is Master Daud so cruel that he would do something like this to me?_

" _You poor, poor little girl. Your mind must be reeling. The truth will come in time, should you choose to pursue it. In the meantime, you should get some rest. You're going to need all the strength you can muster, just to survive._ "

And with those words, he vanished.

I shakily stood up, and walked over to the bed. He was right. My mind was reeling with the affirmation that I was betrayed, yet blinded to the knowledge of the actual betrayer.

And now, I…I do not know how to feel about taking a life…

Will it be brutal? Will it traumatize me?

Will I enjoy it? Will I indulge the craving for blood? To watch as a man or woman's life ebbs away before my eyes?

I climbed into bed, and lay my head down on the lone straw pillow. I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes, trying to calm my racing heart and my restless mind.


	8. The Plan, Devised

**_Chapter Eight_**

 ** _The Plan, Devised_**

* * *

My fragile sleep had been broken by the sound of children screaming. Begrudgingly, I opened my eyes and I was staring at the ceiling. The screaming would not stop. It kept reverberating throughout the hall.

I yawned. Was this supposed to intimidate me?

 _Huh…That is an odd reaction. I am being held captive by people who would literally burn me alive for not following their beliefs, and yet…_

 _And yet…_

 _And yet…What?_

Do you know what is strange about being isolated? It gives you too much time to contemplate things. In my heart, I feel as though I should be afraid for my life. Yet, in my rational mind, I consider the fear to be irrational. It also helps that my boredom is outweighing my fear.

Should I feel wrong for thinking this way?

"No," I muttered to myself in Serkonan. _It feels good to be speaking my native tongue, even if it is only to myself._ "I should not feel disheartened by thinking that way. By societal standards, I am not a proper lady. Nor do I desire to be like the women of the nobility. My hands are quick. My feet are swift. My mind is sharp. Or so I have been told…"

I rubbed my eyes. Then, I sat up, so that I could lean against the wall. I began to tap my fingers against my leg.

"Why have you taken such an interest in me, Outsider?" I asked quietly, not expecting to receive an answer. "Every time you have mentioned my Master, your voice takes on a tone of disdain for him. An observation I should have made sooner. You lost interest in Master Daud, yet you have gained interest in me…What has my Master done to displease you? Will I make those same choices? Will I ultimately disappoint you?"

I sighed. "So many questions…Far too many of them…No answers…Only mysteries. Huh…I sound like Master Daud, saying that…So, should I? Should I take that first step into what you called eternal darkness, Outsider?"

The children began to scream again. Some older women this time, too, from the sound of it.

"Oh, shut up already, you choffers!" I said angrily. "You are just giving them the reaction they want from you!"

I shook my head, and ran my hand through the little bit of hair I have on my head. "I have spent my whole childhood training for this…this grim business. The Business of Death, of Blood, of Coin…Do I want to be a killer? Or, should I abandon my training? Adopt a new skill, a new profession, perhaps? Hmm…No…That would not make sense. Killing is all I am good for…And I have not even killed yet…"

I shrugged. "Maybe it is time that I take that first step into eternal darkness…"

I rubbed my eyes again. _I am so tired, yet I should not sleep. Mentor Galia did say that we would have to be ready at any and all times of the day or night…I can get my sleep later._ "So, why did you betray me, Master? If Lurk did not betray me, and my brothers did not…Then it has to be you. And you are often more cruel than you are kind. What is the motivation behind my imprisonment? A test of will? A test of loyalty? Are you perhaps here, in disguise, watching me? You are the Knife of Dunwall for a reason…Maybe one day I will even have a legacy like yours…"

 _Is that something I truly desire? To be the next Knife of Dunwall?_

 _By the Outsider…he did say that the fate of the Whalers will rest on my shoulders…_

 _What does that even mean?_

 _Is someone going to try and destroy us one day?_

"I know the type of person I want to be, now, Outsider," I said, closing my eyes and smiling. "Kieron once told me what it feels like to kill a man with a blade. To feel the flesh parting, to feel the resistance of the sinew…I will admit to you that I am nervous. I do not have a blade. Yet, the zealots do, and I do have my training…If I could snap the neck of a zealot, and take his blade…"

I paused, lost in thought. "Snap his neck, take his blade…That sounds so much easier than it is going to be…But I am ready to take my first step into the eternal darkness. I am tired of being a Novice. I want to become a Master. I want to train others, to grow the Whalers into a fearsome force…Perhaps even more fearsome than the Army or the Navy!"

I laughed. "That will take years…Though I am content with earning my black coat. To serve alongside my eldest brothers would be an honor…And I would like to know what Master Daud has planned for me…Yes. Yes, I will take that first step into the darkness…Snap a neck, take a blade…Outsider's eyes, I need to think this through more…"

 _How hard can it possibly be to kill one Overseer zealot?_

 _Realistically? Very._

 _Unrealistically? Not hard at all…_


	9. Rescue My Soul

**_Chapter Nine_**

 ** _Rescue My Soul_**

* * *

Master Daud once told me that the most dangerous assassins are the ones who have mastered the art of patience. They take the precious time needed to study their target, their prey, to the fullest possible extent. They learn every weakness, every point of infiltration, every like, every dislike…The list goes on and on, really. At times, they are so bold as to meet their target face-to-face.

And just when their target feels their safest, they strike fast and strike true.

Sometimes, I drive my Master to the brink of insanity. I have a tendency to make brash decisions. Ironically, he has done the same thing on more than one occasion. I have seen him chastise himself for it. He tries to correct the fault in me, but I do not always heed his words of warning. Those times that I have not, I have paid for it. So, if there was ever a time for me _to_ be patient, now would most definitely be it.

I will have to lure my target into a false sense of security, to let them get close to me. Then, I would have to strike. However, for the zealots to feel safe around me, I may need to let them torture me. Not…that I am afraid, but…

No…I take it back. I am afraid. Why? Because I cannot be certain what kind of torture will be inflicted upon me.

I have heard stories, both firsthand and secondhand, that the zealots will go to extreme lengths to make someone "pay penance for their sins," as it were. And, as far as they were concerned, I had committed the greatest sin of them all.

My torture, my "penance," could range anywhere from losing my arm; to being held prisoner in this facility for the rest of my life; or even being burnt at the stake. And you know that saying, that things could always be worse? I honestly believe it. There are things I have heard about my Master's techniques that pale in comparison to these acts.

The worst part is that I do not know if they are true, or false.

Over the last several days, I have been studying the patterns of the guardsmen; what time our meals are delivered by the Oracular Sister; and when people are being dragged off for "treatments." From the footfalls, I was able to determine that the Overseer zealots are responsible for the hall patrols. So, there is a high probability that I could grab a weapon off of one of them. Yet, the Overseers are not quite malleable enough to believe the lies of a _sinner_.

 _"_ _What is life without risk?"_ Master Daud once asked me. _"No risk equals no danger. It also means no reward. So, life becomes boring. That's why people like us – assassins, thieves, so on and so forth – take risks. Sometimes, throwing yourself into harm's way is the only way to generate results. Does that mean it's worth it? No, not always. It's a variable that is largely dependent on the type of situation you find yourself in."_

Where an Overseer may not be malleable enough for my deception, the Sister of the Oracular Order might be. The girl is younger than me, perhaps by two or three years. She wears a white dress adorned with golden lace, and carved into her forehead is a strange symbol. I do not know for certain what it is supposed to be, yet to me, it looks like a topless star.

I am taking a leap of faith here. I am going off of the presumption that the young are always naïve. I know that I can certainly be, at times. Would that not mean that this girl will be, as well?

 _I did say that I would take my first step into the eternal darkness…The manipulation of this girl will certainly be a first step…_

 _By the Outsider, I feel…wrong, for what I am about to do._

If everything goes the way I want it to, this girl will take me to one of her fellow Sisters, or an Overseer. I do not know if the Sisters carry weapons. I imagine that they have to. In any case, my plan could still fail. And I have accepted that.

But what _is_ life without risk?

From what I have seen in society, women have a motherly instinct that is ingrained into our being. We naturally feel the need to comfort and console someone experiencing great pain, physical or emotional. And I intend to prey upon that.

This is a bit of a two-sided blade here…After all the hours of training Master Daud has put me through, I, and many of my brothers, are desensitized to pain. I do not have the luxury of being able to pinch myself or bite my tongue to bring myself to tears. No. If I want tears, I have to work for them.

Depriving myself of sleep once again, I stayed up all night to scratch my arm bloody. It was a calculated risk, certainly. I was risking the self-inflicted wounds becoming infected, as well as the weakening of my body. Even though I am only a Novice, I still know where all the vital arteries are in a person's body. Naturally, I was avoiding those areas. Yet, bleeding is still bleeding, and if you lose enough blood…

Well, you get the idea. Nothing good comes out of blood loss, except for death. Unconsciousness, if you fail to kill your target properly.

My arm was a grand collection of scratches, torn flesh, and bite marks that I sincerely hope will heal later. _I do not need more scars._ Although, I regret trying to cover my mouth in blood, like in those old horror stories. The taste is rather…metallic. I do not understand how those creatures of the night live off of it.

I suddenly froze in place, my heart beginning to anxiously beat. There was a key fumbling in the lock of my cell. I quickly grabbed some dirt off of the floor and threw it in my eyes, to make them tear. Then, I lay on the bed, whimpering and sobbing.

 _Please, work…_

When the door creaked its way open, I weakly looked up at the young Sister. I reached towards her with my bloodied arm, and I whispered, as pitifully as I possibly could, "Please…Help me…"

The young Sister of the Oracular Order stared back at me, her eyes wide. She was not blind, evidently. _Strange. I thought all Oracular Sisters were?_ She made no move towards me.

"Please," I echoed. "Please, I…I need help…"

The Sister set the tray of food down and cautiously made her way towards me. She knelt down next to me, and took my bloodied hand in hers. I did not meet her eyes. Not yet.

 _I only have one chance to get this right…_

"Dear child, why have you done this to yourself?" she asked, her voice laced with a Tyvian accent. She sounded rather mature for her age.

 _You are too young to die…If there is any good in this world, please do not let this girl be my first blood._

"I cannot take it anymore!" I sobbed in Serkonan. "I…I just want all of this to end! Please! Please…"

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry, but I don't understand you. What are you saying?"

I shot up, grabbing the Sister by the collar of her dress. She flinched, uncertain if she should recoil away. For the briefest moment, I looked her in the eye, before burying my face in her shoulder.

She began to gently stroke my head. "What's your name? And why are you here?"

"Corabelle…" I murmured, then said in the common tongue, "My name is Corabelle Gouverneur. I…I have been Marked by the Outsider, and I…I can feel his corruption in me! He is…he is trying to turn me into a monster…"

The Sister suddenly looked down at my Arcane Bond, and she gasped. "This…This is a real Mark of the Outsider?"

"What? Yes. Of course it is real! Do you honestly think I would just burn myself for fun!?"

"No, no, of course not. I believe you."

"Can you help me, then? Please?"

The Sister paused, contemplating her answer. "Are you willing to atone for your sins?"

"Yes…I…I will do anything to be rid of the Outsider's corruption."

"Anything? Anything at all? Are you sure about that…?"

I nodded. "If I…if I have to…"

"Okay…But I'm going to need to ask you some questions before I can talk to an Overseer about helping you."

I nodded once more.

"You said your name was Corabelle Gouverneur. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Where are you from?"

"Serkonos. I lived near Batista."

"I thought I recognized your accent, but…Batista? Where is that?"

"Karnaca."

"Oh…I see," the Sister replied. "What did you do there?"

"I worked for the silver mines, as a spaller."

"That sounds hard."

"It was, but I needed to support my…my brother."

"He didn't work?"

"He used to," I whispered. "That is, until he was diagnosed with phthisis."

"Oh…I'm so sorry…Is he…?"

"Yes…He died not that long ago. And after he passed away, I…I was too heartbroken to remain in Serkonos. I booked passage to Gristol. I wanted to study medicine. But I had only been in Dunwall for a couple weeks, when I suddenly found myself…here."

"You did know that Dunwall was being ravaged by that horrible Plague, didn't you?"

I shook my head. "No, I did not. Not until I got there. I always heard such good things about Empress Jessamine's rule, that I thought I could easily find work…"

"Did you?"

"I had just been hired by a whale oil refinement company…Please, forgive me, the name of the company has escaped my mind."

"It's all right. I've heard enough."

 _Outsider's eyes, I hope she fell for all of that._

"Are you sure?" I asked.

She nodded. "Just one more question, okay?"

"Sure…Anything."

"Why do you think that the Outsider did this to you, Corabelle?"

"I wish I knew…Really, I do. I just want all of this to be over with…"

The Sister suddenly fell silent, as though she were lost in thought. I looked down at the floor, staying silent.

"I'll…I'll be right back, okay?" the Sister said suddenly. "I'm going to go talk to Mother Lestelle."

"Thank you…" I said, my eyes suddenly tearing up. _Oh, come on…Now I can cry? Wow…_

The Sister stood up and left the room, locking the door behind her. With a sigh, I sat up and ran my hands through my hair.

I hope I did not just sign my own death warrant.


	10. Only To Watch It Burn

**_Chapter Ten_**

 ** _Only To Watch It Burn_**

* * *

 _Focus on where I wish…_

 _To be standing…_

 _And it…_

 _Will be so…_

I fell onto my hands and knees with a rather impressive _smack!_ _Well…I may actually feel that one tomorrow._ I stood up, shakily, brushing the dirt off of my legs.

 _Focus on where I wish to be standing…_

 _And it will be so…_

I sighed, putting my hand gingerly against my forehead. _At least I managed to transverse myself onto the bed this time._ Outsider's eyes, how…? How are my brothers able to transverse so flawlessly?

 _How_ are you supposed to get used to the feeling of your body being ripped apart, piece by piece, and put back together again in rapid succession?

How many two-sided blades must I wield to get out of this ghastly place? I knew that I needed to save all the mana I had. Yet, I also knew that I desperately needed to practice using my magic. Though, how to properly perform a tethering is still somewhat beyond my understanding. As are the transversals, come to think of it…

All we ever do in our brief lives is learn. I am beginning to see that now. Master Daud and my eldest brothers taught me the basics of being an assassin. They taught me the complexity of it. Now, I have to learn how to use my magic alongside my training. And, for the time being, I am my own teacher. Is this to my detriment, or to my benefit?

I closed my eyes and began to calm my breathing. Using my powers is a lot more strenuous than I previously thought it would be. And that is considering the fact that I am transversing back and forth across a miniscule room.

So how did I manage to do a…what did Kieron call it? Was it not a…a long distance transversal? I cannot recall exactly, yet I do remember how much he loathed doing them.

 _How many days was I unconscious, before I awoke in this place? It must have been a long while, if Master Daud had time to sell me off to these…these pitiful excuses for human beings. And he sold me for a single coin!? Come on, I know I am worth more than that! The least Master Daud could have done was sell me off for more, so that my brothers could stock up on food and supplies for months! Months!_

 _…_ _Did I really just think about that? I cannot believe I did. There is definitely something wrong with me…_

"…And what did you say her name was?"

"Corabelle Gouverneur."

"An interesting name, for a Serkonan. And here I thought the Gouverneur family was wiped out over half a century ago!"

"There was a Gouverneur family, Mother Lestelle?"

"Oh, yes, yes…" A long pause. "Have we arrived, my dear?"

"Yes, Mother. Are you sure you want to speak with her?"

"Yes, child, I'm certain. Open the door."

The door creaked open, and in walked an older woman, along with the young Sister. I sat up as the Sister closed the door, and I crossed my legs, carefully resting my hands on my lap. _Remember your cover story, Arissa. It should be just like the last time._

Mother Lestelle wore a dress of white, adorned with golden and black lace. That same symbol, the topless star, was evident on her forehead. Her hair was tied back elegantly, and was the same color as the dress. She had significance in the Oracular Order. Is it possible that she is one of the blind oracles?

I highly doubt it.

"Your name is Corabelle Gouverneur. You're from Batista, in Karnaca," Mother Lestelle said, her voice stern and thick with an accent that placed her from Morley. "So, you're Serkonan. But the problem I have with you is that you don't have a Serkonan surname. You told quite the compelling story to my apprentice. I wonder if any of it is true. Is it, child?"

 _Uh…Apprentice? The Sister is her apprentice?_

"You are taking a calculated risk, believing in any of my words," I replied, stoically. "You have everything to lose, while I have nothing to lose. So, in actuality, you should not trust me. You should not be here. And yet, here you are, because you believe that you can save me from the Outsider's corrupt embrace. Can you?"

Mother Lestelle was scrutinizing me, dissecting my words one by one. Perhaps she was even attempting to see if I am truly Serkonan. Who can tell what the thoughts of zealots are?

The Mother crossed her arms. "We're about to find out. How long did you say you were in Dunwall for?"

"I cannot give you a definitive answer. It was…two or three weeks, at most."

"And why can't you give me a definitive answer?"

"I…have suffered a lot of emotional trauma, recently…"

"Very well. Why were you in Dunwall, then?"

"To start a new life."

"Why?"

"My brother died of phthisis. I was too heartbroken to remain in my homeland."

"You don't sound like you're from Batista. Karnaca, most definitely. Not Batista. They have a…unique cadence to their speech. Speak Serkonan to me."

 _You have got to be kidding me… You are making this more difficult than it needs to be, woman!_

" _Se lo tu dici,_ " I said. " _No preoccuparvi, su altezza. Sono grato del tuo aiuto._ "

"I haven't helped you yet," she snapped. "Anyone could say that sentence!"

"Mother, please…" the Sister said. "Isn't this getting a bit ridiculous? That sounded very fluent to me, and…"

"Silence, apprentice! The questions are complete when I say they are!"

The Sister sighed. "Yes, Mother."

Mother Lestelle fell silent. Unfortunately, it was not for long. "Give me your hands," she barked.

"W-what?" I stuttered, feigning being intimidated.

"Your hands. Now!"

I held out my hands, and the mentally disturbed old woman began to rub her thumb over the palms of my hands.

"You weren't a spaller," she said, bluntly. She grabbed me by the shoulders, spitefully glaring into my eyes. "You never were."

"Yes, I was!"

"Jocelyn, stay where you are!" she ordered her apprentice. "Who are you, truthfully?"

 _I should have known this was going to go wrong…I should have known it! Okay…Okay, uh…I have no idea what to do…Master Daud, why did you never teach me what to do when your cover is blown!?_

 _Outsider, please help me!_

With equal malice, I met Mother Lestelle's gaze. "Why does it matter to you who I am?"

She slapped me across the cheek. _Outsider, I beseech you. Please, help me._ "Tell me who you are! Who do you work for?"

" _You know that I do not interfere in the affairs of mortals,_ " I heard the Outsider say, somewhere…in my head? " _Tell me, Arissa. Are you ready to watch your soul burn bright, in an abyss of everlasting darkness?"_

"If you want answers, pry them from me, you Oracular zealot!"

 _Yes, I am ready to take the step into the darkness…Help me. Please._

" _Remember your training. I will watch this spectacle with mild interest, to see just how intelligent you are._ "

Mother Lestelle brandished a dagger. "Last chance, child. Tell me who you are! Tell me who you work for!"

"Mother!" the Sister screamed. "Stop it! Please, stop this madness!"

"Silence, Jocelyn!"

 _Remember my training…_

 _There is a dagger…_

 _Wait…A dagger…_

 _Snap a neck, take a blade…_

 _Well, snapping her neck will not work. Can I trick her into going for my eyes? I will have to kill them both, after this…_

 _So be it._

"My name is Arissa Gwethalyn Daurana," I said emotionlessly as I transversed onto my feet, directly into one of our many combat stances. "And I am a Whaler."

I let go of my emotions, and I allowed nothing but raw instinct to take over. I feinted, to scare Mother Lestelle into striking. And it had worked. She lashed out at me with the dagger.

That was when my training took over.

I intercepted her arm with my own, effectively blocking the strike. Then, in that same motion, I turned sharply, so that I could get my leg behind hers. She was in front of me now. Yet, the motion continued. With my left hand, I grabbed her just above the elbow, and I pinned her blade arm against her side.

In a few short seconds, the dagger clattered uselessly onto the ground. With my free hand, I grabbed her by the windpipe, and began to squeeze.

"Young Sister, if you dare to move, I will kill Mother Lestelle. And if you try to run, you will die with her."

"Okay," the Sister relented. "Okay, please…Please, just…don't hurt us…"

"I had never planned to hurt either one of you," I replied. "Your _Mother_ attempted to draw first blood."

"She was only trying to…"

"Do not attempt to explain her idiocy. All of this unpleasantness could have been avoided, you know. You just had to let me go. But no," I glared at Mother Lestelle. "You were the one who wanted to interrogate me."

I let go of the Mother's windpipe, allowing her to take a few short seconds of breath so that she could respond. I held out my hand, and I desperately hoped that I could summon up my tethering with my right hand.

 _Come on, tethering…I need that dagger…_

"So, you're a part of that little Whaler group," Mother Lestelle said, fretfully. "I should have known it by the way your palms felt. You have the hands of a murderer."

The tethering grabbed the dagger, bringing it to me. _Thank the Outsider, it worked!_ Now that I was armed, I held the dagger to Mother Lestelle's throat.

 _Say goodbye, innocence…Today, I become an assassin._

"You are right. I do," I replied. "The Business of Death is all I know. And it will long surpass religious zealots like you and the Overseers."

Without hesitation, I cut Mother Lestelle's throat. I threw her onto the ground without a care, like a child discarding an unwanted toy.

"Mother!" the Sister bellowed.

"You're next," I told her, prowling towards her.

"Please! No! I…I won't tell anyone about you! I…I swear! Please…"

She was steadily backing herself into the corner. I kept pressing her further and further into it, until she had nowhere else to go.

"Truly, I am sorry for what I am about to do to you," I whispered. "Yet, I cannot take the risk of letting you live. And unfortunately for you, you chose to lead a life of religion. You chose to serve here, in this dangerous place, surrounded by adulterers, deceivers, murderers, so on and so forth. You trusted my words, and it was the greatest mistake you ever made."

"Why are you doing this?" she whimpered. "Please…I don't want to die…"

"Does anyone? I am doing this because I have to. If not me, then surely you would die by someone else's hand. Fate is a cruel mistress, my dear. And truth be told, I did not want to deceive you. Alas, I had to. You do not deserve this fate, no. Allow me to wish you the ability to find peace in death, so that you may walk with your gods or whatever it is you believe in."

The Sister sobbed.

"Do not cry," I whispered in her ear, as I stabbed her in the heart. "It will all be over soon."

I left the dagger in. She slouched against me. I could feel her life ebbing away. I saw her white dress becoming tainted with red.

And I had to fight, to hold back the tears of knowing what I had just done. I _killed_ two living, breathing human beings! They did not even need to die…Did they?

They were dying because of the choices I made…

With a final shudder, the Sister closed her eyes.

She was dead.

I gently laid her body down next to the Mother's, and I…I looked away.

 _I cannot dwell upon this now…I…I have to escape. I…I have to make a run for it! Hide, somehow…I have to…I have to…_

I froze in place, as I heard the door open. I looked up, only to see an Overseer zealot standing in the doorway. He looked at me. He looked at the two bodies.

And he said nothing.

I blinked. He was gone.

So I blinked again.

This time, I found myself in a Tyvian chokehold.

"It'll all be over soon," the Overseer whispered into my ear as unconsciousness took hold over me.


	11. Does Time Truly Heal All Wounds?

**_Chapter Eleven_**

 ** _Does Time Truly Heal All Wounds?_**

* * *

 _The Epimetheus_

 _Undisclosed Location – En route to the Isle of Gristol_

 _Third Day, Month of Nets, 1836_

 ** _-X_X_X_X-_**

 ** _I_** _had choked her unconscious, but I didn't expect her to stay asleep for this long. She's tired. I can't say I blame her. She's barely slept over the past month. Was she afraid? Most likely. Kids her age shouldn't have to endure conditions like that. But I'd willingly thrown her into them._

 _By now, she most likely knows that I "betrayed" her. It took a lot of careful manipulation, but I was able to keep the Overseers from harming her. However, she did spend a lot of time in isolation. I can't be certain of her mental condition. Young adults more often than not crack under pressure. They develop some kind of disorder or another._

 _I don't know why I performed this one act of kindness towards her; changing her out of those blood soaked rags_ _ **-**_

I sat in a chair, next to the cot I had lain her in. She was in a cold sweat, her breathing labored and her cheeks stained with tears. She had taken not only her First Blood, but her Second Blood, as well.

 _They say that First Blood is always the hardest. And they're not wrong. I can still recall the night I took my first life. I had enjoyed it, at first. I felt powerful. A few hours later, the guilt set in. I was beset by grief, for the life I unlawfully took. When I took my second life, I'd done the same act. On that occasion, the wounds took a little less time to heal. And by the third kill, I barely gave a second thought to my actions. Regardless, if I were to awaken her, and chastise her for her tears, it'd be hypocritical. So, just this once, I'd allow her to cry. Every assassin needs to._

 _Sometimes, that's the only way we keep our sanity in this business. Those private moments that we have to ourselves. Some spend their time drinking. Others spend their time whoring. Some gamble, some read books, and some cry. Everyone has their own way of dealing with their choices. What will hers be?_

Her lips were moving. Over and over again, she muttered, " _Padre, padre…ho paura del buio. Ti prego, non mi lasciare._ "

In Serkonan, she was saying, "Father, father…I'm scared of the dark. Please, don't leave me."

I took her hand in mine, and I squeezed it tightly, to reassure her. I watched as more tears spilled from her eyes. And this was one of the rare occasions in my life, where I truly had no words to speak. Does she know who is watching over her? Can time truly heal all wounds?

If she is aware of her guardian, then she…called me father. Can a girl, who I have more or less abused over the years, all in the name of turning her into a woman to be feared, truly consider me such?

"Why are you one of the greatest mysteries of my life?" I wondered aloud. "You're young. Fragile, yet strong in your own unique way…"

 _The Outsider hounded me for weeks to buy her freedom from a witch who went by the name "Crescence." She was malnourished, forced to wear an outfit befitting of a woman who works in the sensual arts, and covered in so much grime that you wouldn't have known her skin was cadaver pale and that her hair was red. She was a pitiful excuse for a child. And I bought her anyways._

 _It was fortunate for me that Serkonan was my native language. She didn't speak a word of the common tongue. She can speak it fluently now, but for some reason or another, I can't get her to say things like "Can't, Don't, Doesn't," etcetera. She always says "Cannot, do not, does not," etcetera. But when she speaks Serkonan, she speaks as any other person would. I've tried for years to teach her otherwise, yet she always goes back to her way of speaking. Wasn't the old saying, "You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink?"_

 _Even though she was ten years old, she didn't know her name. She didn't know how to read, or write, or to do much of anything. It was my decision to name her, to school her. So it was that I named her Arissa Gwethalyn, after a woman my mother employed to help create her poisons and hallucinogenics, and make them as effective as they were. Arissa Gwethalyn was a true Pandyssian witch, or so my mother told me when I was a boy. She was skilled with a blade, sharp with her mind and tongue, and she was one of the greatest practitioners of black magic I'd ever seen._

 _I can't deny that I looked up to the woman. I also won't deny that I've used her blade techniques, and taught them to my men. They were, after all, extremely efficient. Yet after all these years, I never knew the fate of Arissa Gwethalyn. She disappeared one morning, and never returned. Lost at sea, my mother claimed. Truth be told, I very much doubt that fate. No woman like that is simply lost at sea._

 _In some circles of black magic, I've heard tales that there's a powerful ritual you can perform that traps your soul in a dimension called "Purgatory," when you die. In this dimension, your soul is restless. You have to wait for a "host" to be born. Once it is, you force your soul into the infant. It's too young; therefore its soul can't fight you. Then, you wait as your new mortal body grows up, undisturbed by the former inhabitant. It's the damned closest form of immortality that the darkest part of humanity has discovered._

 _And since the Black-Eyed-Bastard takes such amusement in my torment, it would make sense that my Arissa is a reincarnation of the Arissa I once knew. But why did she add the name "Daurana?"Or rather, why did she make it her surname? It was an obvious play on my pseudonym. I never thought anything of it. Perhaps there is more to it than I ever realized there was_ _ **-**_

Arissa opened her indigo eyes, and wearily looked up at me. In that moment, she looked older than she is. Perhaps this was because of all the tears she'd been shedding?

"Master…Why did you betray me?"

 _Well…at least the kid has an interesting sense of prioritizing._ "To test you," I answered bluntly. "I wanted to see if you'd live or die."

 _Does she realize that I'm still grasping her hand?_

"How could you do that to me?" she asked. There was no anger in her voice; only curiosity. "I killed two people because of you."

"No. You killed them because you wanted to kill them, didn't you, Arissa?"

She hesitated.

"Your kills weren't made in panic. You calculated your risks, which ones to take and which ones to avoid. You planned to take a life. Instead, you took two. But they were precise kills, a clean cut to the throat and a clean stab through the heart. You've paid attention to your lessons. Now that you've killed, you know there isn't any going back from the path you've chosen. Did I make you kill them? No. You made that choice on your own. So, I'll ask you again. Did you kill them because you wanted to?"

She hesitated again, longer this time. "Yes," she relented. "Yes…I wanted to at least kill the old woman. The younger one was…a collateral casualty."

"Collateral damage happens in this line of work," I replied. "You'll get used to it, after a while."

I could tell that Arissa was fighting to be unemotional. She was beginning to fall into the same pattern as the others did, after they took their first life. It has something to do with the Arcane Bond, I believe. They get their Bond, they make a kill, and suddenly, they become emotionless husks. Then, after a while, they get their own personality, their own quirks.

"Master, is it true?"

"Is what true?"

"That it gets easier after First Blood?"

I nodded. A look of relief washed over her face.

"Do you want to kill again?" I asked her.

"Not…at the moment, yet…" she paused. "I want to become a full assassin."

"And you'll have your chance to. Presently, we're heading back to Dunwall to attend a meeting with the Royal Spymaster, Hiram Burrows. Apparently, he wants to see what we're capable of accomplishing. I want you on the mission. Afterwards, I have a special assignment for you. And your promotion will depend on your completion of it."

Arissa's eyes lit up. I'd expected they would. She's been waiting for this opportunity for a long, long time. "Anything, Master! I swear to you, I will get it done."

"I have no doubt that you will. But you'll have to wait until we get back to the hideout before I give you the assignment details. They're to be _strictly_ kept between us. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master," she murmured. Tears were forming in her eyes again. _Happiness, or did she think about taking another life?_

She suddenly sprang up, and wrapped her arms around me. It was my turn to hesitate now. She'd never done this to me before. She was shivering, and she buried her face in my shoulder.

 _How she goes from assassin to lost child so quickly is incredible…As a precautionary measure, I need to reinforce her loyalty. Outsider's eyes, it must be a miracle that Kieron or Aedan or even Misha hasn't walked in yet._ I wrapped my arms around her, and I felt her freeze in place. The gesture surprised her, and it should have. I've never shown her a parental figure's compassion before.

It wasn't long until she fell asleep. I figured she would. There was barely any fight in her words. I expected, and deserved, the worst from her.

But she didn't give it to me.

I sighed. "You're the greatest mystery, and annoyance, of my life, kid. Yet one day, I have a feeling you're going to turn into someone to be feared…And perhaps on that same day, you'll be your own kind of legacy…"

 _Or, perhaps, you'll be the one who will carry my legacy…_

 _Assassins don't get to retire. The bullet or blade with my name on it will come sooner or later. And I need to be ready for it. I need to have a plan in place, in preparation for my death. Outsider be damned, I'm still too young to be considering these options. I shouldn't even need to be thinking about this for another ten, or even twenty, years…_

I laid Arissa back down on the cot, one hand grasping hers, and the other gently stroking her head.

It was going to be a long night, both for me, and for her.


	12. The Weaves of Time

**_Chapter Twelve_**

 ** _The Weaves of Time_**

* * *

I felt my body begin to tense. Something was wrong. I opened my eyes with a decisive flick, only to see the dark skies above me. Clouds of blue and black were twisting viciously in unnatural directions, dotting the entirety of the sky. I soon realized that I was lying upon the stone of a…pavilion, of sorts.

 _Where am I? And why am I here?_

The body of a woman…no…a girl…was next to me.

It was the girl I had murdered.

Smoke was aberrantly rising from the body. It was writhing into the shape of a person. Instinctually, I had transversed myself backwards, and onto my feet. My hand went for my blade. It was not there.

" _Is that truly necessary?_ " the Outsider said, his voice apathetic.

I sighed, relaxing slightly. "Do you enjoy tormenting people?"

The Outsider crossed his arms, tilting his head. " _Do you enjoy killing them?_ "

"What do you mean?"

" _I told you to remember your training. You did. Albeit, the lethal part of it. I'm beginning to think I was wrong about you, mortal. Perhaps you truly will be no better than Daud._ "

"What did my Master do to anger you?" I questioned. "Your voice changes every time you say his name. And I distinctly remember you asking me if I was ready to kill. I killed. And now you are saying that I may be no better than my Master? I am confused. So please, Outsider. Please, elaborate, so that I may understand what it is you desire."

The Outsider gazed into my eyes. He was studying me. For what purpose, I wonder? " _Over time, I will be giving you threads. Putting these threads together is up to you. Do you know how old I am, Arissa?"_

"No, I do not. Generations? Centuries? Millennia, even?"

" _I have been alive long enough to know when you mortals start becoming corrupted by power. Your Master used to be an optimistic young man once. I don't need to reiterate to you the man he is now. Needless to say, he has let the power of my Mark go to his head. He thinks he's invincible._ "

"Except he is not…None of us are…"

" _Do you feel remorse for taking the life of an innocent girl, who only just entered her adolescent years?"_

"I did what I had to do to survive," I replied. "She had to die; so that I could live…She was a loose end."

" _Was she, truly?_ "

I hesitated to answer.

" _Your Master betrayed you. You did not chastise him. Why? Are you cowed by him?_ "

"Yes…"

" _Then why serve him? Time is an endless thing, dear mortal. It has many weaves. In fact, there is even a weave where you do not exist. You were never born. Instead, Time decided upon this particular weave. It wove you into existence, and it can just as easily weave you out of it. There are many paths before you that you can still walk. And many more still that you will neglect to walk. But I can see it in your eyes. You won't walk away from the Whalers. You enjoyed killing. Mother Lestelle was right about you, it appears. You do have the hands of a murderer._ "

"You are right, Outsider. I do. And I will not walk away from the Whalers, because I will not betray my family."

" _No…It's more than that, isn't it?_ _You cannot hide the truth from me, mortal. Tell me what it is you desire. What you_ truly _desire._ "

I crossed my arms and murmured, "I want to be the leader of the Whalers."

" _Why?_ "

I bowed my head. "Because I…I know that we can be much more than just killers for hire. I want to do _good_ in this world…I want to serve alongside the Empress…Maybe not exactly like a Royal Protector, but…Still…"

" _What do you consider to be good, mortal?_ "

"Killing those who truly deserve to die," I answered. "Removing tyrants from seats of power. Teaching the common people how to defend themselves from those who would hurt them…"

The Outsider, in response, simply shrugged. " _You are, indeed, one of the strangest mortals I have ever come across. There are times where you speak exactly like Daud, and times where you do not. Before I depart, allow me to leave you with this warning, Arissa. Remember this place in the Void, and remember it well. I promise you, the next time that you are brought here, you are not going to like the unending nightmares that I will inflict upon you._ "

"Unending nightmares? What will I have done to deserve those?"

" _This is another instance of a crossroads, dear mortal. You can either continue to be cowed by your Master, or you can stand up to him. An empire will continue to rise, or an empire will begin its decline. Daud will make his greatest mistake or he won't. The fate of the Whalers will depend on you, and you alone, or it won't. But it will take a lot to talk Daud down from his mulishness on the matter. The question is…Which of you will prove more persistent?_ "

* * *

Something was dancing across my face. I swatted at it, not wanting to wake up. _By the Outsider, I feel as though I could sleep for days on end_. For a few moments, nothing happened.

"Come on, sleeping beauty," I heard a voice say. "Wake up, you lazy little carrot head."

I groaned, begrudgingly opening my eyes. They were still blurry, and I could not see who was sitting next to me.

"What is it?" I mumbled.

I felt a pile of clothing landing on my lap. "You need to get up, get dressed, and eat. You look as though you haven't had a proper meal in weeks."

 _Why can I not place the voice? Which of my brothers is this?_

I sat up, rubbing my eyes and blinking a few times. _Of course…I should have known…_

Kieron was sitting next to my bedside… _or is it cot-side?_ He was twirling a sleep dart between his fingers.

"You do not need to remind me," I said. "Why did you wake me up? What is going on?"

Kieron was as tall as Master Daud, and the marking of his Arcane Bond was swirled around his right eye, ran down his cheek, and curled up to end at the base of his skull. His eyes were a bluish-hazel, and he had dark brown, shoulder-length hair. Like me, he was Serkonan. However, he hailed from Cullero, whereas I hail from Karnaca. _Or so I have been told…_

"Don't you remember?" Kieron asked. "We're heading home, to Dunwall, to attend a meeting with the Royal Spymaster."

"Yes, I remember now. Is Hiram Burrows to be our next client?"

My brother shrugged. "I don't know. Something about this meeting seems off, though. Thomas believes that this is a trap, and that the Spymaster is going to try and imprison us."

"Is Thomas here?"

Kieron laughed. "No. He was smart, and stayed back at the base. The same with Lurk, come to think of it."

"Then who _is_ here?"

"Master Daud, myself, Aedan, and…Misha. There are only five of us, counting you."

"And of course, I am the only Novice here…" I muttered, slightly irritated. "Which means I am going to get the brunt of the danger."

I picked up my clothes, absently beginning to dress myself.

"I must say, it was interesting to watch you have a conversation with yourself in your sleep."

"Why where you watching me sleep, Kieron?"

"Master Daud's orders, of course."

"Right…Of course…" I paused. "Where is Master Daud?"

"He's asleep, most likely. I was assigned here as guard duty."

I shook my head, still not believing his words. Kieron can be…something else, at times. Do not get me wrong, he is my closest friend, and I trust him with my life. Yet, there are moments where I really want to give him a swift kick to the…

Wait…

This is not my uniform.

"Kieron," I said. "Why did you give me a Command uniform?"

The belts were brown. The trousers were black. _When did Master Daud and Lurk start wearing black trousers?_ And the coat was red. This…This did not belong to me…

"Master Daud's orders," he replied simply.

I blinked. "Are you…certain?"

"Before you even ask, no, he didn't tell me anything. He just handed these to me, and told me to give them to you when you woke up. He said that if he wasn't awake by the time that you were, he wanted you dressed, and he would later explain to you the reasons behind this."

I nodded, and continued to get dressed.

"So, how are you…you know…feeling?" Kieron asked, suddenly.

"About what?"

"We know what happened. About the asylum and everything. Rapha was furious when he saw that you were missing. We tore apart the entirety of Dunwall, looking for you," he paused. "They…They didn't hurt you, did they?"

I shook my head no. "I was alone. For how long, I do not know. But I…killed two people."

Kieron put his hand on my shoulder, reassuringly. "I could tell. You seem…off."

I bowed my head, not wanting to answer.

"What's wrong, Arissa?"

"Can you keep a secret for me?" I asked, quietly.

"Of course. What is it?"

"Would you believe me, if I told you that when I was in the Shrieking Pass, the Outsider started conversing with me?"

Kieron stayed silent for a few moments. "Does Master Daud know?"

"Truth be told, I do not know."

Kieron ran his hand through his hair. "I wasn't expecting that, I have to admit. Okay. What has the Outsider told you?"

"A lot of things. He goes on and on about paths that I will walk. The type of woman I will become. Yet, I am worried, Kieron. He has given me a warning. And I…I am beginning to fear for the worst."

"What was the warning?"

"I think…if I am interpreting it correctly…that if I do not stand up to our Master, then the fate of the Whalers will be resting on my shoulders. And this time, he dragged me into the Void itself! He took me to this…pavilion, I think it is called. I do not know where it is, yet the Outsider said that the next time he brings me there, he will inflict unending nightmares upon me."

"A pavilion?" Kieron asked. "Can you remember anything else about the place?"

I contemplated my answer. "It was white. Very pristine. And there was a body lying on the ground next to me. Yet, it was the body of this…of this young girl I had killed…"

"And that's all you can remember?"

I nodded.

"So, a pristine white pavilion, and a meeting with the Royal Spymaster…"

"Kieron…You do not think these are connected, do you?"

Stark realization was suddenly painted across my brother's face. And he cursed in Serkonan. "You and I both know the stories surrounding the Royal Protector. And from my understanding, the Royal Protector and the Royal Spymaster have to work closely together, to ensure the safety of the Empress, and her Empire…"

"So if you wanted to kill an Empress…"

"I'd do it slowly, so I wouldn't rouse suspicion from the Royal Protector. And practically _nothing_ gets by Corvo."

"Which means the only logical conclusion is that…Oh, Outsider's eyes…" I breathed. "He wants to see if we're capable of killing the Empress."


	13. Whispered Secrets

**_Chapter Thirteen_**

 ** _Whispered Secrets_**

* * *

Kieron and I were sitting in silence. I do not think either of us knew what to say. If the Royal Spymaster really is testing us, to see if the Whalers are capable of pulling off a contract of this magnitude…

Outsider's eyes, I hope that we are wrong. Yet, what are the chances that we are? _Not good, I imagine._ Our Master built us a reputation of ferocity and precision. The amount of contracts I have seen us take on is staggering. Who does not want to hire us, it seems on most days. _Are there truly no other groups of assassins? I find that hard to believe._

If Kieron and I are not wrong, then things are about to get much, much worse for Dunwall. And that would fall perfectly in line with what the Outsider told me.

"Kieron, this…this is treasonous! Not only for the Spymaster, yet for us, as well! If we kill the Empress…" I paused, sighing. "How could Master Daud even consider working for him? We will be labeled as traitors to the Empire! There will be nowhere safe to go, except for Pandyssia. And I do not want to go to Pandyssia!"

"Arissa, calm down," Kieron chided me, gently. "We don't even know if that's the reason why he wants to hire us."

"I doubt he is hiring us to have a tea party."

"And if he is?"

"Kieron, I am being serious!"

"So am I. Honestly, the Rat Plague's getting worse by the day. The rich are starting to die. As of yet, no one has been able to find a cure. There is still a vital part missing to this, however…"

"How did the Plague even come to Dunwall?"

"Yes. Can you recall, anywhere in history, where the City has seen a plague this bad before?"

"Not off the top of my head, no."

"I think someone, or something, brought it here. There's a larger picture here that we're not seeing. Perhaps we are not meant to see it."

"Then who is?"

Kieron shrugged. "In any case, the Empress's days are most likely numbered. That means our days are going to be numbered, as well."

"Again…Pandyssia…Do you really want to go there, Kieron?"

"I heard it's nice there, this time of year."

"Things are getting very bad…" I trailed off. "What do we do?"

Kieron looked over his shoulder. After a few moments, he glanced back at me, and spoke in a hushed voice, "Whatever we need to do to survive. Even if it means betraying Daud."

"What!?" I said incredulously, my voice also hushed. "Are you insane?"

"No, I'm being practical. Arissa, he could be the reason that we all end up dead! If it comes down to him or us, what do you think we're going to choose? Our options would quickly become: leave and form an opposing guild, or kill our Master, and Lurk, and let someone we trust take over."

"Who would you put into power, then?"

"You seem to be Daud's favorite, next to Lurk. The Mentors think it should be you. So do Thomas and Aeolos."

"How long have you fools been plotting this?"

"Since you were abducted and sold off to the zealots," Kieron replied. "Do you honestly believe that any of us were happy to learn about our Master's actions? At first, we thought it was Lurk who had done the deed. Thomas confronted her, and she told him that it was Daud's doing. How he managed to get her to tell him, I have no idea."

"Kieron, betrayal is not the answer!"

"Presently, it's not. That could change in the future, and you know it, too, Arissa. So, let me ask you this. Did Daud say to you that your promotion was going to depend on a special contract?"

"Yes, he did. Why are you asking, and how did you know that?"

"I was eavesdropping. It doesn't matter. Thomas, Galia, Dodge, and I know what your contract is. Also, we may or may not have ransacked Daud's office a few weeks ago and read his journals…Anyway, he has reason to believe that we're harboring a traitor in the ranks."

"Seriously?"

Kieron nodded. "We've been trying for a while now to figure out who the traitor is. I think we can safely infer that it's not any of the Masters. We've been with the Whalers since the beginning, for the most part. It wouldn't make any sense for one of us to be the traitor."

"So you believe it is one of the Novices, then?"

"Anything is still possible, but yes, most likely. So, if Master Daud wants you to start investigating the identity of the traitor on your own…I want you to know that we're all prepared to help you complete the contract. We need you to join the Masters, in case we _do_ need to betray Daud."

"I still think that all of you are complete idiots for it."

"Then we're idiots. But we're still going to help you, whether you like it or not. Naturally, we'll be helping you _away_ from the prying eyes of our Master and Lurk. And all of this needs to be kept as a closely guarded secret, between us."

I shook my head, then ran my hand through my hair. "Okay…It is only fair, since you are keeping my secret. And…Kieron?"

"Yes?"

"I am not ungrateful for the help. Really, I am appreciative of it."

Kieron offered me his hand, and smiled. "Of course. We're family, aren't we? Contingency plan or not, we were still planning to help you."

"Thank you…I think…" I paused. "Yet, we are family nonetheless. Now, until the end."

I took my brother's hand, and he helped me get off of the cot.

"You know," he said, finally speaking in a normal tone of voice. "The red does look nice on you. It takes away from the whole…carrot thing."

"The black will look better, I believe," I replied, threading the straps of my vapor mask through my belt. "And it was _you_ who started the carrot thing."

"What? Me? Never!"

"I saw you talking to Ardan the day before he said it!"

"We were talking about the weather."

I sighed. "Kieron, you are something else."

"You're right, Arissa," Master Daud said, as he came down the staircase. "He is. Which is why he should be topside, keeping a close eye on the people I hired."

Kieron bowed before our Master, put on his vapor mask, and transversed away.

"Good morning, Master," I said, bowing before him.

"Good morning, Arissa," he replied. "How do you feel?"

"Not as strange as I did last night. Though, I am tired."

"As well you should be. It'll only get better, or worse, from here."

"What do you mean, Master?"

"It doesn't matter. What do you consider me, Arissa?"

"My Master," I answered. "And I…Wait. Where is this question coming from?"

"You were muttering in your sleep last night."

"I was?"

"Yes. You were saying, ' _Padre, padre…ho paura del buio. Ti prego, non mi lasciare,_ ' over and over again."

I stayed silent, at a loss for words. _The nightmare…from when I was a child…_

"You only began speaking in the common tongue when you woke up," Master Daud said.

I looked away from my Master, and I whispered in Serkonan, "I consider you to be my Master…and the father that I never had the fortune of knowing. I have considered you such for years, yet I have never told you, for fear of what you might do to me, if I told you the truth."

I felt my Master place his hand down on my shoulder. He, too, began speaking in Serkonan. "I need you to do something for me, Arissa. Will you?"

"Of course, Master," I replied, looking up at him. "Anything."

"You're well aware of your rank. And you're well aware of the fact that I gave you the wrong uniform. The truth of the matter is that I intend to deceive the Royal Spymaster. I need your help to do it."

"Why do you want to deceive the Spymaster?"

"Because I need to see what we're getting into, with him as a client. In this instance, I can better do it from the shadows. It'll give me more time to measure his worth. How much do you know about my legend, Arissa?"

"Not much, Master. Only what I have heard from the others, and from watching you work."

"A long time ago, there was a rumor going around that I could be in two places at once. I'm going to play that to my advantage. The Spymaster is smart. He'll see through the deception, and I want him to. He needs to know how dangerous we are, before he gets any ideas of double-crossing us. So, I need you to stand in my place. I'm going to be honest with you; I'm not sure how much danger this will put you in. There shouldn't be any, since you're a mystery to the Empire. You're also young, and you'll be hiding behind your mask."

"So the danger does not lie with him discovering my identity?"

"No. If he wants to try and decipher your identity, let him. He won't find anything. I've tried, and I can't find any records of you. Not in Dunwall, and not in Serkonos. As I said, you're a mystery. But this was a situation where I had to weigh the risks, and the risk is better than the alternative."

 _I do not want to even know what the alternative is._ "The danger lies within his guards, then?"

"Yes. Though, I don't see anything happening to you. Even if something does go awry, you'll be within range for us to help you."

 _What am I getting myself into? Or, better yet…What is my Master getting me into?_ "Okay," I said, absently tapping my fingers against my leg. "I will do it. Yet, I must know, Master. Am I to accept any contract, or contracts, he offers?"

"I want you to give him a neutral answer, if he does. However, we will most likely take up any work he's offering. I need to look through contract first. Make sure there isn't anything hiding in it that could result in our destruction."

I nodded. "Yes, Master."

"Anything else?" Master Daud asked.

"Where is the meeting to take place? And how long until we return to the hideout?"

"The meeting is taking place at twilight, on the outskirts of the Financial District. If everything goes according to plan, we should be able to return home within the next couple of days. It'll give me time to review the contract, and it'll give you time to prepare for your first _official_ assassination."

"Wait…Am I actually going to get paid for this?"

"Yes. You'll get your share of the coin."

I nodded absently, losing myself to my thoughts.

 _So, I have to essentially be a body-double for my Master, take on a contract, kill another person, and get paid for it…_

 _By the Outsider…How many ways can this possibly go wrong?_


	14. Alea Iacta Est - Part One of Two

**_Chapter Fourteen_**

 ** _Alea Iacta Est – Part One of Two_**

* * *

When we arrived in Dunwall, the moon was still high in the sky. From the position of the moon, I was able to determine that it was just past midnight. We would have to wait an entire day before our meeting with the Spymaster.

 _At least we will have plenty of time to make it to the Financial District._

It was a struggle, continuously performing transversal after transversal with my brothers and my Master. I was quickly tiring, and my head was throbbing. They did not slow, except for Kieron. He stayed close to me, occasionally grabbing my wrist and transversing me with him. In the end, I forced myself to continue on, despite the pain I felt. I was a Novice among Masters. This was a chance for me to show my capability as an assassin.

And I had to take it.

Much to my surprise, we had made it to the Financial District rather quickly. An hour or two, at most, had gone by. I found the district to be a foreign place. It looked as though some kind of natural disaster had occurred here, in this particular section. Buildings were damaged, many of them for sale or rent, or outright abandoned; and the ground was practically mud.

This is strange, for such a prominent district. Should it not be in better shape than this?

I suppose I do not need to dwell on it. I have more important things to worry about.

Master Daud led us to a two-story building, a former clothing store. Surprisingly, a lot of the merchandise had been left behind to rot away with the structure. Much of the clothing left behind was still in pristine condition. No one had looted the place yet? How curious.

 _I wonder…Is thieving, and looting, better than murdering?_

"Aedan, Misha, Kieron, Arissa," Master Daud said, going around the room and lighting the lanterns hanging from the ceiling. "Good work, for making it here so quickly. We'll use this storefront as an outpost, while we wait for tomorrow's dusk. In the meantime, keep your guard up, but try to get some rest, if you can. We're going to have a long day ahead of us."

"Where are you going, Master?" Misha inquired.

"We're in an abandoned section of the district, aren't we? I'm going to look for supplies."

"May I accompany you, Master?"

"I suppose. Let's go."

Master Daud and Misha left the outpost. Once my brothers were certain that they were out of the line of sight, I saw them take off their vapor masks. I quickly followed suit. It was…definitely a lot easier to breathe, without the mask on.

"How are you holding up, little sister?" Mentor Aedan asked.

I ran my hand through my hair, and rubbed my eyes. "I have been better…My head is killing me."

My Mentor laughed. "I remember when I first got my powers. Don't worry your pretty little face about the pain. After a few months of training, transversals become second-nature to you. Kind of like breathing, actually."

I tilted my head questioningly. Aedan is the Mentor who trains us in the use of ranged weaponry. He was smaller than Kieron, perhaps more of Thomas's height. His short hair was dark, with flecks of silver throughout it. Yet, his green eyes held a certain intensity to them. I knew from his voice that he was native to Dunwall. So, unless I have forgotten some of the common tongue during my institutionalization, his wording about my "pretty little face" perplexed me.

"It's just an expression," he said, evidently seeing my confusion. "By the Outsider, I'm too old to have an interest in a young girl like you."

"How old are you, Mentor?"

He smirked. "Old enough to be your father, but not old enough to retire."

I rubbed my eyes again, then looked over my shoulder. Kieron was holding up a pair of trousers that were…Outsider's eyes, is that _chartreuse plaid?_ Who in their right mind would pay coin for _that?_

"Kieron…" I stared at him, astonished. "Really?"

"What?" he said. "Oh, you mean these? They're not for me."

"Then who _are_ they for?"

He shrugged. "I haven't decided yet. I'm thinking either Lurk or Dodge."

"You should give it to Dodge," Mentor Aedan said. "Everything, and everyone, will want to dodge him, then."

I absently began to look around the store, more focused on the conversation that my brothers were having than anything else.

"How well do you think he can dodge without those bone charms of his?" Kieron asked.

"A bottle of whiskey says he can't."

"A box of cigars says he does."

"You don't even smoke."

I found an unlocked drawer, and I opened it, peering inside. Towards the back, something glimmered. Curious as to what it was, I reached inside of the drawer.

"You said whiskey, I answered with cigars," Kieron replied. "I didn't see a problem. Do we have a problem, Aedan? I outrank you, anyways."

"Ha!" Mentor Aedan paused. "Outsider's eyes, you're right. Damn. How do you _,_ of all people, outrank everyone except for Thomas and Lurk?"

"I'm good at my job, that's how."

I pulled an intricate barrette out of the drawer, along with a black ribbon. And they were…beautiful. I have never seen anything like them before…

"I propose that the next time Dodge goes to bathe," Mentor Aedan said, "we break into his locker and steal his bone charms. Then, fire a few wristbow bolts at him."

"Alright. But you're going to be the one shooting. And when I win, I want the good cigars, not the cheaply made Dunwall kind."

"What do you even want them for?"

"What do you think? I'm going to sell on the black market. Cigars from Cullero fetch quite a price, if you know where to sell them."

 _This looks like something the Empress would wear…Maybe she does wear them? Would it be right to keep it? This place is already abandoned, after all…_

"Arissa, what is that you're holding?" Kieron asked.

"Huh?" I quickly clenched my hand, to hide what I had found. "Nothing…"

Kieron was patting me on the shoulder. "There, there. Assassins are allowed to feel pretty too, you know."

"So you want to be a princess now, Kieron?" Mentor Aedan propounded.

"No, I'm already roguishly handsome. But I heard your mother was a princess, when she worked at the Golden Cat," Kieron retorted.

Mentor Aedan gazed blankly at Kieron. He was about to say something, then shook his head and turned on his heels, walking to the other side of the store.

"Wow, Kieron," I said. "That was rather…malignant of you."

Kieron shrugged. "What? It's not my fault that I am roguishly handsome. Or, wait…is it handsomely roguish?"

I smiled for a brief moment.

"Seriously, though. What did you find?"

I sighed and opened my hand, embarrassed.

Kieron laughed. "Hey, Aedan."

"What?"

"Our little sister is growing up! And, most likely, she is going to be an aristocrat."

"How so?"

"She likes shiny things."

I covered my face with my free hand, to try and hide my embarrassment.

"It's okay, Arissa. You're allowed to like shiny things."

"It's called a barrette, Kieron."

"I know. And I thought all girls liked wearing them."

"I…suppose so?" I paused. "Actually, how would I know? I grew up with one older sister, who hates me."

"To be fair, she hates all of us," Mentor Aedan chimed in, as he came out of his transversal to stand next to us. "No matter what, though, little sister, don't be afraid to find things you like. When you become a Master, you'll actually have days where you need to be a civilian."

"Wait…There are actually days where we do not have to be in uniform?"

Mentor Aedan nodded. "You never noticed?"

I shook my head no.

Kieron was grinning. "Aren't the Novices adorable when they start growing up, and the realization hits them that they'll have certain degrees of freedom?"

"I'll admit, it is. It reminds me of my days as an Officer of the City Watch."

"Wait, what?" Kieron and I said at exactly the same time.

"Brother!" Kieron spoke first. "You never told me that."

Mentor Aedan crossed his arms. "I've never had a reason to tell anyone, except for our Master. In fact, during my time as an Officer to our great City, I worked in two different locations: Dunwall Tower, and Coldridge Prison."

"Why did you quit, Aedan?"

"The best explanation I can give is that I couldn't take the Royal Spymaster's constant harassment, or the corruption of the Empress's Court. It's a nightmare at the Tower, and Corvo's the only person holding the damn place together."

"Does Master Daud know you worked in the Tower?" I asked. "Is that why he wanted you here?"

"No. He doesn't know where I specifically worked. Nor do I ever intend to tell him. He only knows that I was an Officer, nothing more, nothing less."

I put the barrette and the ribbon in one of my bolt pouches. "Mentor, may I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"Do you think the Royal Spymaster wants to kill the Empress?"

Mentor Aedan shifted uncomfortably back and forth on his feet. It took him a very long time to answer. "The Spymaster is a weasel of a man. Yes. I believe he would commit regicide."

"Do you think Daud would?"

"I think our Master is willing to do anything, without giving any forethought to the possible consequences behind an action. It's amazing how the potential of coin can motivate a man, isn't it? You're obviously acting as a body double, if not something worse, for our meeting with Hiram. This means that you're in quite the precarious position, Arissa."

"I…I am aware of this, Mentor…"

"If I was in your position, I would take my chances, and put a bolt between Hiram's eyes now, before his inanity can amount to anything. The Empress is a very compassionate woman, and one of the greatest rulers in the history of Dunwall. For what it's worth, I enjoyed working at the Tower. But I became an assassin, with the sole purpose of getting a chance to strike at any corrupt bastards who would cause harm to the Kaldwin family."

Kieron and I exchanged glances. He spoke. "Chances are that our Master isn't going to let us kill him. He'd sooner kill us than a high-profile client."

"Maybe, maybe not. He certainly won't kill her."

"Oh, no…You are not getting me involved in any more schemes!" I protested. "I have had enough of all of this! And if Master Daud will not kill me, then what will he do to me? Because I promise you, he will do something worse to me than put me in another institution, or something even worse than death!"

"Arissa, listen to me, and listen to me well," Mentor Aedan said. _Why did he sound so similar to the Outsider, in that moment?_ "If you can kill the Spymaster, and potentially save the life of our Empress…wouldn't you? There is a lot more at stake than just Jessamine's life. We're talking about the future of the Empire."

"Stop it!" I screamed. "Just, please…Stop…"

"Arissa…"

"No. I…I cannot keep doing this…"

Kieron grabbed me by the shoulders, and looked me dead in the eye. "Yes. You can. You're nervous, I get that. You have every right to be. But _nothing_ about the life we have chosen to lead is easy, Arissa. Sometimes, there are sacrifices that need to be made. And it's unfair that we have to ask this of you. You're our best hope," he paused. "If Master Daud has the gall to hurt you, then I want you to know that we'll be there to help you heal. _I'll_ be there. As long as you're with us, no one will be able to touch you."

"Now and forever, we're family," Mentor Aedan said. "Every word that Kieron said is true. We need you to be strong for us. Can you do that?"

I hesitated, and looked down at the floor.

"Please, Arissa…"

I nodded, suddenly feeling very lightheaded. "Do you promise that you're not manipulating me?" I whispered in Serkonan.

"I would never dream of it, my little sister," Kieron replied, and sat down with me on the floor. "I swear my soul to the Outsider. And on my dead mother's grave."

I laid my head down on Kieron's shoulder, and closed my eyes.

Before I even knew it, I was out cold, taken into the embrace of sleep.


	15. Alea Iacta Est - Part Two of Two

**_Chapter Fifteen_**

 ** _Alea Iacta Est – Part Two of Two_**

* * *

 _Decades ago, there lived a man. His army was said to have been fighting in the Morley Insurrection. On the battlefield, blood was flowing like a river, and limbs and gore spattered the landscape. Many people close to him lost their lives, and now, only a fraction of his army remained. It was all because of an err in his judgment._

 _The man was desperate. He had only one hope, one wish, to call upon. His sister had given him a carved whalebone trinket, before the local Overseers took her away. Supposedly, the small trinket had the power to call upon the Great Leviathan, with nothing more than the utterance of a single phrase._

 _The man clutched the trinket in his hand, and whispered the words, "Alea iacta est." Soon, the Great Leviathan appeared. He bestowed His great, dark powers upon the losing army, and turned a tide of defeat into a tide of victory._

 _But the man had not given forethought to his act. He had forgotten the words of warning his sister bestowed upon him, "Once you are cursed with the power of the Outsider, he will collect on your debt to him."_

 _One night, the man was sitting at a table in a whorehouse. He was enjoying the company of a young woman, and drinking a glass of Serkonan rum. He was gambling in a game of Nancy. When it was his turn, the man cast his die. It landed upon the table, and displayed a single dot. The number one. Mere moments later, the man began to struggle for breath. His chest was tightening._

 _He fell out of his chair with a loud thud. And as he lay dying upon the ground, the Outsider was said to have whispered into his ear, "Alea iacta est."_

 _The die has been cast._

* * *

I crossed my arms, shaking my head clear. I do not know why, in this time of nerves, I thought of that story. It is not a particularly comforting one, as I am going to be casting a die of my own soon. _Also, if I remember correctly, that story is the reason why Nancy no longer requires a die to be cast…_

There was something about our brief time in the Financial District that vividly struck me. And that was the sunset. There was such a mysterious beauty to it. It was like a beacon of light, of hope, amidst the darkness and despair. How could a portion of the district so damaged, still be so beautiful?

Yet, how could a place so beautiful, also be the potential birthplace of a great evil?

As dusk began to turn into night, a carriage came down the rusted tracks. Within moments, it screeched to a halt. The Royal Spymaster had finally arrived. He was late.

He is lucky, now. If he was dealing with my Master instead of me, Master Daud would have berated him for his lateness. "Time is a precious commodity," he once told us. "Never squander it."

I studied the Royal Spymaster as he stepped out from the carriage. Mentor Aedan was right about him. He did look a weasel; whatever that meant. He was short for a man. There was not a single hair atop his…

Wait…Is he sweating?

 _By the Outsider, I think he is manic. He is sweating profusely; his hands are shaking worse than leaves; and he is fidgeting. Fidgeting! This truly begs the question of_ how _he has not been forcibly institutionalized for this behavior. Better still,_ how _is he serving the Empress? I thought our "fair rulers" were supposed to be intelligent, and pick trustworthy individuals to serve them?_

 _Well…If this is how the Kaldwins pick their cabinet members, it explains a lot about Emperor Euhorn Jacob Kaldwin's death now…_

Forgive me for the digression. As I was saying…

There was not a single hair atop the Spymaster's head. He wore opulent clothing, and a large necklace that I assumed was his badge of office. He also had a crooked nose. Though, I am uncertain if you could even call it that.

 _A man with this kind of mania does not arrive alone. Yet, no one else has stepped out of the carriage. Are we being watched?_

"You must be the Knife of Dunwall," the Royal Spymaster said, approaching me.

"Depends on who's asking," I replied, doing my best to mimic a Gristolian accent.

"Well, my dear, I was looking to hire him. Do tell me where he is. I don't have time to waste."

 _Funny, I was thinking the exact same thing._ "You're looking at her."

"The Knife of Dunwall is a woman?" the Spymaster said, flummoxed.

"Does it matter? You wanted a meeting with me, and here I am. Why do you require my services, Spymaster?"

"I need you to kill someone for me, my dear girl."

"Say those words again, and I'll cut your throat. I don't care how high profile of a figure you are. You're made of flesh and blood, just like the rest of us."

The Spymaster glared at me.

I impatiently tapped my fingers against my arm. "Now, if you're done making a fool of yourself, tell me why I'm here. Presently, you're wasting _my_ time."

The Spymaster sighed. "Very well."

"Who do you want dead?"

 _Wait…What was that glimmer, at the end of the street? Am I just imagining things?_

"It's quite simple, really. I need you to kill the Empress of the Empire of the Isles, Jessamine Kaldwin herself."

 _Outsider's eyes…You idiot. Now I have to kill you._

 _Why did Kieron and I have to be right? Well, mostly right, but still…_

I took a step forward, which caused the Royal Spymaster to recoil. "Are you mad, Royal Spymaster?"

"Excuse me?"

"I said, are you mad?"

"I'm afraid I don't understand what you're trying to get at."

"Why, in the name of the Trickster, would I even consider killing the Empress for you?"

"Because you're the most capable assassin in this City."

"I need more than that."

 _Are his eyes tearing?_ "Jessamine does not believe in the true meaning of law and order! Especially _order!_ For the love of the Seven Strictures, she does not _understand_ that she and Lady Emily should not be so close to that wretched Royal Protector. Or that she is wasting Lady Emily's precious education by letting the girl pretend to be things she will never become. And the common people. The _common people!_ They're so…so… _indolent!_ They're a plight on this City, and they need to be brought to heel!"

 _There is that glimmer again. What is that?_

"I'm one of the common people," I growled. "Do you really want to bring me to heel, Spymaster?"

"No. No, I didn't mean you, of course. But if you kill the Empress for me, and kidnap her daughter, then you will be a very, very rich individual."

"First, you want me to kill the Empress. Now you want me to kidnap her daughter, as well?" I snapped. "What kind of person are you?"

"I…I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean."

"You would commit regicide, because…what? She is not listening to poor little you?"

"That is not what I…"

I drew my blade, clenching the hilt tighter than I ever have before. "No. That is exactly what you meant. You are a disgrace of a human being. You are a power-hungry, order-craving maniac. And the only solution you can think of to suit your corrupt ways is to kill the only person holding this Empire together."

"You don't understand! She is a woman! Women don't understand the finer workings of politics!"

I poised my blade, ready to strike. A crossbow bolt suddenly landed at my feet. I felt my hands shaking with rage. Just as I was trying to kill him, he was trying to kill me.

"May some deity have mercy on your soul," I said, my voice a harsh whisper. "Because I certainly won't."

I lunged…

* * *

…W-what? Where…Where am I? I know I had the Spymaster dead to rights, and I…

 _Oh no…not again…_

 _Why do these things keep happening to me!?_

There were candles everywhere, yet their light did nothing to penetrate the darkness of the small room. I tried to shrug out of the bonds that held me by wrist and ankle, but it was no use. I could not move them, no matter how hard I tried to.

Footsteps prowled towards me, and I looked up. Master Daud was standing over me.

"You foolish girl. What were you _thinking?_ " Master Daud snarled. "Assassins don't kill their clients."

"Master, wait, I can explain…"

"No. Apparently, seven years of training isn't enough to get you to understand the ways of being an assassin. We're not good. We're not evil. We do whatever…"

"…It takes to get the job done, I know," I said. "But, Master…Killing the Empress? What will that accomplish, except for broken souls?"

"Does it matter? No. I salvaged the mess you made, and I've taken the contract. We have the rest of the year to prepare for it. The Empress will die, and that's final."

"You are insane! Master, how could you…"

Master Daud punched me in the abdomen, and I yelped. By the Outsider, I always forget how hard he can hit…

"We're _assassins_ ," he chastised me. "We're weapons for hire. It doesn't matter who we kill."

"Yes, it does. If I have learned anything from you, it is that bad choices lead to terrible consequences. And this is one of those times, Master. If we kill the Empress, you will damn us all!"

"I'm shuddering at the thought of it."

 _"…_ _You can either continue to be cowed by your Master, or you can stand up to him…But it will take a lot to talk Daud down from his mulishness on the matter. The question is…Which of you will prove more persistent?_ "

 _This must be what the Outsider meant. If I fail to convince my Master to stand down, then the fate of the Whalers will fall upon my shoulders…_

Master Daud shook his head, disapprovingly. "What happened to you, girl? I had faith in you, in your loyalty. Then, you try to undermine my authority. Why?"

 _I wonder. If I transverse, can I get out of these bonds?_ "I told you why."

"You truly are a naïve child, then. I should have left you to die in Karnaca."

"You would not have done that," I retorted, as my fingers twitched with rage. "The Outsider would not have let you."

Master Daud flinched. _Did I surprise him?_ "How do you know that?"

"Because I heard you say it, the day you led me into the Shrieking Pass."

Master Daud grabbed me by the brigade vest, and stared darkly into my eyes. I forced myself to meet his intimidating gaze. And slowly, I began to draw in as much mana as I possibly could.

"How much is that _bastardo_ paying you to kill the Empress?" I asked. "Is it worth the price of our lives?"

Master Daud was about to backhand me, when I transversed out of his grasp and onto my feet. _Good to know…If I transverse, then anything stuck to me is left behind._

"Your power is weak," he replied. "Just like you are. What do you intend to do now, Arissa? Kill me?"

I shrugged. "The thought did cross my mind."

 _Damn it, Arissa…Why did you have to say that?_

Master Daud laughed. "I doubt you'll even land a hit, but I'll humor you, kid. Here's your blade."

I caught the blade in midair. _By the Outsider…I am so going to die…_

Before I could even enter my combat stance, Master Daud rushed me. I panicked, and I barely managed to block the strike. I have not had many one-on-one fights with my Master. I knew his skills far exceeded my own. Yet, I was committed now. I had no choice but to fight him.

As he went to strike again, I transversed away, and assessed my situation as quickly as I could. _I do not have many options. Not against my Master. Could I flank him? I doubt it. Yet…I have to try…_

I was fumbling, and I knew it. When I went to flank, my Master effortlessly parried away my strike. He had seen it coming, before I even attempted it. _Of course he did…He is a Master Assassin for a reason._

"I'm disappointed in you, girl," he said. "Is this really the best you can do, after seven years of training?"

"I can do better!"

"Then hit harder! You're not fighting a defenseless girl now!"

I literally froze in place. Master Daud took the opportunity to rake his blade across my arm. I cried out, pain radiating throughout the limb. I saw my Master spin, I think in preparation to take my arm clean off. He left me no choice except to transverse away. I was uncertain how deep the cut on my arm was. Though, I could feel the warm blood running down into my glove.

"The next time you hesitate, I _will_ take your arm."

"Why are you doing this, Master?" I asked, trying to catch my breath. _I cannot use my magic for much longer. Yet, he already knew that._ "We do not need to dance like this…"

"You're right," he relented, lowering his blade to his side. "We don't."

He raised his hand into the air, and…

…

…

…

I screamed at the top of my lungs, and my eyes immediately shot up in surprise.

Master Daud was standing in front of me. His blade was shoved half-way into my abdomen.

"W-why…?" I whispered, as I felt tears forming in my eyes from the agony.

 _I…I have never been stabbed before…_

"I'm doing this for your sake, Arissa," Master Daud said solemnly, as he slowly withdrew the blade.

Once the blade was out, I collapsed into my Master's arms. I felt my body becoming stiff, and I felt myself becoming colder by the second. It scared me, especially when my Master took me over to some kind of…ritual altar, and laid me down upon it. _How did I not notice that before? What is he going to do to me?_

"You foolish, obstinate girl…All you needed to do was follow orders."

I tiredly watched him, as he went about the altar lighting candles. Their flame burned purple. I could see, could feel, the blood bubbling out of my wound…and I coughed up…a lot of blood…Am I…going to choke on it, soon?

My heart was…racing. I wanted to say something…anything…but the darkness…the pain…

"It was a risk, you know, putting you in that Asylum," I heard my Master say. "I didn't know what they would do to you. I thought for certain that, by the time I got there, they would have burnt you at the stake for heresy. Yet, there you were, as a prisoner in isolation. It gave me more than enough time to convince the Overseers to leave you alone.

"You're a mystery to me, kid. You keep surviving situations that you, quite frankly, shouldn't. I feel that once I apply this magic to you, you'll be an unstoppable force. Better still, you'll be an unstoppable force that's under my control."

 _You…manipulated the zealots…to leave me alone?_

 _I trusted you…my whole life…and you are betraying me again?_

Master Daud finished lighting…the candles…and he came back over to me. He ran his hand…through my hair. "The blood loss will take you from me soon. Don't worry, you won't die. I'll make sure of it. Though, for what it's worth, I'm sorry it had to come to this, Arissa. As much of a thorn in my side as you are at times, you didn't deserve this fate.

"Unfortunately for you, you're too talented for me to kill you. This is the more humane solution. I'm sure you don't see it that way, but I hope that one day, you'll understand why I did this," Master Daud paused. "You won't remember the events of today. You may not remember much of anything. I believe it's for the better that you won't."

 _You are not sorry…I know you too well…_

 _But you will be sorry, once you kill the Empress…_

Master Daud cut a lock of my hair, and set it aflame. He then…stood over me, and…spoke in a language…I had no understanding of…

"Sie herz et impuro. Detergere ihn zu, laissez sie espiritus avoir gratis. Esaudire sie ewig loyaute uta mein. Necesse est nobis tolerare. Via aperio! Saurein sie sinn! Nettoyer sie espiritus, laisser sie herz! Sich sie avoir libresana!"

With each spoken word…the flame of the candles burned brighter…hotter…I witnessed my blood doing…unnatural things…and I…could feel it…

By the Outsider…what is happening to me!?

What? No…no, no, no…Please!

Please!

I screamed bloodcurdlingly, as the magic…as I…


	16. A New Perspective

**_Chapter Sixteen_**

 ** _A New Perspective_**

* * *

 _Oracle Natividad's Asylum for Natural Philosophical Research_

 _Research District, The City of Dunwall, Isle of Gristol_

 _Twenty-Eighth Day, Month of Nets, 1836_

 ** __O_O_O__**

"…By the Outsider, do you vivisectionists love to hear yourselves talk?"

"Well, I don't know what else you expect me to say. Although, I will certainly remember this conversation, the next time you need me to patch you up."

 _A sigh._ "I'm sorry, brother."

"If it's any consolation, Kieron, she's been responding very well to the elixir treatments. No vital organs or tissues were damaged when she was attacked, and her wounds are healing. They'll scar soon. She has been recovering for some time, now."

"But why hasn't she woken up? She…she is still alive, isn't she?"

"If she were dead, then she wouldn't be breathing. However, we need to do something about getting her fed. Malnutrition is rapidly becoming a concern of mine."

"Back on _The Epimetheus,_ she didn't want to eat anything. I finally sat her down and forced her to. She wasn't happy about it, but…It doesn't matter. Do you have any other concerns?"

"Yes. Her breathing."

"What's wrong with it?"

"It seems as though it is a bit labored. However, it has not been consistently so. Therefore, my presumption is that this is a residual side-effect of the type of magic Daud performed on her."

"You weren't there, Rapha. You didn't see what he did to her. You didn't hear how she screamed. By the Outsider, I wish I could forget all of it…"

"If I give you enough opium, maybe you could."

"You're joking…right?"

"I don't know. Am I?" A pause. "Pardon my prying, Kieron, but why are you so concerned about her well-being? Have the two of you become…?"

"What? No. No, we aren't. Although, I wish…"

"That you were?"

"Perhaps I do, perhaps I don't. Wait…She's moving. Is she waking up?"

…

I groaned, and I begrudgingly opened my eyes. Hmm. It appears that I have awoken in an unfamiliar room. And were it not for those voices, I would have stayed asleep…Or not…

By the Outsider, why does everything hurt?

"Welcome back to the world of the living, Arissa." I craned my neck, to the sound of the voice. The accent sounded Morleyan. There were two men standing near my bedside. "Do you know who we are?"

 _I feel as though I know who they are, yet…_

 _Ah. Yes, of course. Rapha, Mentor of training in the use of supernatural abilities. He is the Morleyan, since he hailed from…It was Caulkenny, I believe. He is tall, fair of skin, black of hair, and has dark green eyes._

 _And Kieron, my…friend? Yes. Friend. I trust him with my life, and all of my secrets._

"Yes," I replied. "I remember."

"Do you know where you are?" Rapha asked.

I shook my head no.

"You're in the hydrotherapy wing, where the Master Assassins reside."

"Why am I here? Judging from the pain, I should be in the infirmary. And if not there, then I should be with my fellow Novices in the trepanation room."

Kieron and Rapha exchanged glances with each other.

"Well, you were in the infirmary, at first. Your brothers decided that it was a good idea to kidnap you, and bring you here."

"Why?"

"They claimed that it would be easier for them to protect you."

"Protect me from…what, exactly?

"Arissa, what is the last thing you remember?" Kieron suddenly inquired.

 _Hm. That is a peculiar question._ "I…remember being in some kind of asylum, with Overseer zealots and Oracular zealots," I paused. "I deceived a girl into trusting me. She was younger than me. I had no choice but to take two lives, on the day of my escape."

"Do you feel guilty for killing her?"

I tilted my head questioningly. "Why would I?"

Again, my brothers exchanged glances. Rapha spoke. "Do you recall your recent task in the Financial District?"

"Vaguely, Mentor. I…believe that someone had hired us for a contract?"

"Yes, actually. We have been hired by the Royal Spymaster, Hiram Burrows, to murder Empress Jessamine Kaldwin. We are also going to kidnap Lady Emily Kaldwin."

"Assassinating an Empress, and kidnapping her daughter? That is unusual. I expect this to be fun."

"By the Outsider," Kieron breathed. "What in the name of the Void has Daud done to you?"

"I do not understand what you mean. Our Master has not done anything to me."

"Yes, he did. He stabbed you in the gut, and came very close to turning you into an amputee. He's also the reason why you've been comatose these past few weeks!"

"Kieron, I don't think…" Rapha attempted to interject.

"Rapha, shut up. She needs to know," Kieron snapped. "Arissa, you tried to kill the Royal Spymaster, so he couldn't hire us to commit regicide. Daud did this…thing to you, as punishment for it. He doesn't care about you. He doesn't care about any of us. All he is in this for is the damned coin. And if we kill the Empress, the entire Empire will be thrown into disarray. You didn't want that before. Why do you want it now?"

"Kieron!" Rapha chastised him. "Enough. Look at her. She has no idea what you're going on about."

Kieron sighed, and looked me in the eye. _Why does he look so tired?_ "Please, Arissa. Please tell me that you remember at least _something_ else about that day…"

 _Why is there sadness in his voice?_ "Kieron, I…I am sorry. It is all so fuzzy now…"

Kieron clenched his fists, and spun on his heels. He began to walk out of the room.

"Where are you going?" Rapha called after him.

"To get Thomas to help me ransack Daud's office."

"You know that Daud's in there at the moment. So is Lurk."

"Right now, I don't particularly care."

Kieron slammed the door behind him. I glanced at Rapha, perplexed by the situation.

Rapha sighed, and waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry about him, Arissa. He's just…upset."

"He will not get himself killed, will he?"

"With him? I can never tell. But as I said, don't worry about him. Before you can do anything, you need to recover completely. Which means that you're going to eat, whether you like it or not. Is there anything in particular that you would like?"

"No…anything is fine, Mentor."

Rapha nodded. "I'll send someone up to keep an eye on you while I'm gone. In fact, I may just send Thomas…"

Rapha transversed out of the room.

I was left in the Master Assassins' quarters, alone.


	17. The Last Quiet Moment

**_Chapter Seventeen_**

 ** _The Last Quiet Moment_**

* * *

 _Oracle Natividad's Asylum for Natural Philosophical Research_

 _Research District, The City of Dunwall, Isle of Gristol_

 _Twelfth Day, Month of Rain, 1836_

 ** __O_O_O__**

I sat on the edge of my bed in the Master Assassins' quarters, a sheaf of paper on my lap and a pen in my hand. I stared at my wristbow intently, carefully drawing out each individual line, each gear, each mechanism. I always wondered how something so deadly, so intricately created, could be so lightweight yet still maintain great efficiency.

The same goes for all of our equipment, really. Nothing is overly extravagant. It is all simple, all useful. Each tool in our arsenal serves a distinct purpose. How does the occupation of an assassin differ from…say…an architect, I wonder? They use tools, as well. Those tools are used for the creation of things, however. Not the loss of life.

 _What a strange and unique world we live in…_

"You're up rather early, little sister," Thomas said, entering the room. "Couldn't sleep?"

Thomas shared his height with Mentor Aedan. To my knowledge, he was the same age as Billie Lurk. He was blond of hair, which he kept tied back into an aristocratic ponytail. His eyes were a piercing shade of wolfish blue, and I could almost swear he had fangs in his mouth. Perhaps it is commonplace for people who hail from Driscol?

I set my pen down, and looked up at my brother. "Oh, no, I slept fine. I am just…" I paused, trying to find the right word.

"Bored?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yes, thank you. I am very much just that."

Thomas sat down on the bed across from me, glancing down at the sheaf on my lap. "Did you draw this?"

"I did. Why?"

"Because I think you have an artistic talent. That, or you'll be taking things apart and putting them back together again one day. In any case, it finally explains why you've been so fascinated with your wristbow for the past week."

I tilted my head questioningly. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No. It's very good, actually. It means you'll be self-sufficient when you're in the field. That is, if you decide to stay with us, when you're older."

"Why would I leave, Thomas? I happen to like my line of work."

"If you say so, little sister. Can I take a closer look at your drawing?"

I nodded, and handed the relevant piece of paper over to my brother.

Thomas scrutinized every detail of the drawing. It was rare, when he decided to show emotion or interest of any kind. He tended to keep to himself. Yet, I could see it on his face. He was astonished.

"I've seen the original schematic for the wristbow," he said finally. "I doubt you have. But this…This is very close to it. Do you mind if I hold onto this?"

"No," I replied. "I can always just make another one, anyways."

Thomas carefully folded up the piece of paper, storing it away in one of his bolt pouches. "It looks like Rapha's paranoia has finally done some good."

"What do you mean?"

"Would you have started drawing, if Rapha had told you that you were allowed to leave this room?"

"No, I…Wait…How did you know he ordered me to stay here?"

"Because I know him, and I know how vivisectionists are. They prefer to cut things open, subject them to unending agony, and study their bodily or emotional reactions. Of course, they have the knowledge to heal. They'll only ever use it if it's to keep their _victim_ alive as long as possible. In a way, vivisectionists are no different than assassins."

"Hmm…I never thought of it like that before."

"I didn't for a long time, either. Unfortunately for us, Rapha is all we have in the way of someone with medical expertise. We're just lucky he hasn't decided to cut one of us open and study how our supernatural gifts work, or the impact our powers have on our bodies."

"Would it even be possible to study magic like that?"

Thomas shrugged. "I've always wondered that myself. It would make for an interesting topic of study, now wouldn't it?"

"It truly would. And I have always found killing to be more profitable than healing to begin with. Maybe I should become a vivisectionist."

"I can see it now…Lady Arissa the Vivisectionist."

"Lady?" I inquired. "But I am not of noble blood."

"Kieron has told me otherwise. He says you have the tastes of an aristocrat."

I raised an eyebrow. "Wait, did he say _tastes of_ or _tastes like_?"

"…What? No. That isn't what I meant. I meant…uh…Kieron said you found some aristocratic things, back in the Financial District. From what he told me, they were definitely of…quality."

"Oh…You meant the ribbon and the barrette…And not the…Yes, I understand now."

"Um…So…what do you think, Lady Arissa?"

"By the Outsider," I sighed, "is that going to become my nickname when I earn my rank?"

Thomas smirked.

"Of course it is…" I muttered.

"I have to wonder about you, young sister," he said. "You haven't just suddenly matured. This change was induced, which means what I was told about you is true. So, the question is…can we undo whatever magic our Master has cast upon you?"

I stayed silent.

Thomas reached into his coat, and produced a note from an inner pocket. He offered it to me.

"I was told to bring this to you," he said. "If you succeed in this final task, then you'll be staying with us permanently. You'll finally be a black-coat."

I took the note from my brother, and looked him in the eye. "Thomas, may I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"What was the intent of holding me in this wing of our hideout? Surely Master Daud knows that you have been keeping me with the Masters, instead of the Novices."

"He's aware, yes. He also knows that we're not dull. Many of us have caught on to what he did to you. So, there is a precarious peace being maintained. Some of us are still loyal to him, while others have grown wary of him. He can't afford to do anything that could further endanger the fragile loyalty he has left from us."

"Right. Yet, I still do not understand why you have been allowing me to stay here."

Thomas smiled wryly. "You're a smart girl, Arissa. Magically induced change or not, you've got wits. Now, use them."

I shrugged, and unfolded the note. I quickly realized that it was written in my Master's hand. I began to read it.

 _Suspicious behavior comes in all forms._

 _One shouldn't limit themselves to the cliché._

 _Not all secret passages are activated by books in the shelves, nor are ashtrays left upside down._

 _But some are. Why?_

 _One also shouldn't be blind to the cliché._

 _Yet some are. Why?_

 _Just a thought._

"This…makes no sense whatsoever," I said.

"What does it say?" Thomas asked.

I read the note aloud, my brother listening with great interest.

"Hmm," he trailed off, pausing. "Actually, it could be worse."

"What could possibly be worse than a damned riddle?"

"Having to solve it by yourself."

I tilted my head. "Wait. You are going to help me solve this?"

My brother nodded. "Of course _we_ are. You don't recall Kieron mentioning this to you?"

I bowed my head, and whispered, "No…"

Thomas put his hand on my shoulder, reassuringly. "This isn't your fault, you know."

I looked up at him.

"You acted on what you thought was right. And honestly, I believe that you were. But Daud made you pay for disobeying orders. In a way, you've sacrificed yourself for us. We intend to repay that sacrifice in full, by helping you climb the ranks."

"Why would you do that?"

"The men deserve a leader who respects them. They need someone who will fight _for_ them, as equally as they fight for their leader. Things are changing, Arissa. For better or for worse, it's too soon for any of us to tell. We'll be leaving the Asylum soon."

"What? Why?" I asked, incredulous. "I thought we were well established here."

"We are. However, it won't last for much longer. The Overseer zealots are coming closer and closer to our territory. It's only a matter of time before they find us, and storm our hideout. We have the traitor to thank for that. So, over the past few weeks, Lurk and I have been working hard to find a new home for us."

"Our options are not good, are they?"

"Far from it. Though, we'll have to accept the hand we've been dealt. And I don't intend to do that without causing a little bit of chaos of my own."

"Do tell, my brother."

"Like I said, things are changing. I've noticed that Lurk has been acting rather…different lately. More distant, and more vitriolic, than usual. I've also caught her sneaking off on more than one occasion. I've yet to catch who she has been meeting with. I don't believe she's entirely loyal to us. If she isn't, then…" Thomas trailed off.

"Forgive me, Thomas. I do not know what you want me to say."

"You have nothing to apologize for. All I'm doing at the moment is conjecturing. I believe our Master will drastically shift the ranks soon. Almost nothing slips by him unnoticed."

"Let me see if I understand this correctly, then. You believe that there is a greater plan at work here. We will be tangled up in matters that will endanger us. And perhaps…Perhaps Master Daud doing this…thing to me, has a part to play in it?"

Thomas shrugged. "Not bad. Not bad at all, actually. Just keep your guard up, all right?"

I nodded. "Of course, my brother."

Thomas stood up. "There is one more matter we need to discuss."

"And that is…?"

"How intimate are you with stances?"

"Excuse me?"

"How intimate are you with the stance rotation?" Thomas echoed.

 _Oh, he meant training…Perhaps I am still tired._ "Truth be told, you have no idea."

Thomas offered me his hand. "Good. You'll live, then."

I moved the sheaf of paper off of my lap, then took my brother's hand and stood up. "What do you mean, I will live?"


	18. Process of Elimination

**_Chapter Eighteen_**

 ** _Process of Elimination_**

* * *

Thomas and I were navigating the labyrinthine halls of our home. I glanced out the windows as we walked by. The sun was just beginning to permeate the sky. Strange, as I was expecting to start seeing more clouds. It is the Month of Rain, after all. And for some reason or another, it is always raining in Dunwall. _I wish I could remember more of my home…I would like to return to it, some day._

Thomas had made it painstakingly obvious that we were heading to the training room. What I still did not understand was why. Were the Novices being tested today? No…That would not make sense. Someone would have mentioned it sooner, if we were. _Or so I would have thought._

"You are hiding something from me, Thomas," I said. "Tell me what is going on."

"You act as though I know the answer to everything, Arissa."

"That is because you typically do."

Thomas shrugged. "I was told to fetch you, and bring you to training. Nothing more, and nothing less."

"Since when did I become a dog?"

"Since you're an exotic, and adorable, little terrier pup," he paused, grinning. "And the fact that you're a bi…"

I punched Thomas as hard as I possibly could in the small of his back. He yelped in surprise. Now, it was my turn to grin.

"So…that's how you want to play this, hmm?" he asked.

I shrugged in response.

"You have until I say three. Start running."

I gave my brother a mocking bow. "As you wish," I replied, as I took off running.

 _One…_

Should I transverse?

 _Two…_

I feel as though I should have.

 _Three…_

"By the Outsider!" I croaked in Serkonan, as Thomas grabbed me by the hair and forced me down onto my knees.

"You should have transversed," he said. "Why didn't you?"

"Because I'm terrible at magic and still barely understand how to use it."

"What?"

I sighed, then answered in Gristolian, "Nothing. I said that you win."

Thomas released his grip on my hair, and helped me up. "I thought I did, too."

I brushed the dirt off of my trousers. "Thomas, if I ever become _your_ commander, I will find the most tedious task imaginable, and assign it to you."

"I'm shuddering at the thought of it."

"You should be. I know tedious."

The two of us renewed our stride down the labyrinth.

"Really?" he said. "You think you know tedious?"

I nodded.

"I always did find enjoyment in how you Novices have such illusions of grandeur. So, fine. I'll make you a bet, Arissa."

"A bet?" I said, feigning shock. "I am too young and innocent for such a thing!"

He rolled his eyes. "Sure you are. We'll see how well you can handle _this_ training. If you can last longer than me, then you win. And I will gladly accept your tedious task."

"And if I lose…?"

"You have to wear a corrupted bone charm for a month."

"Wait…Bone charms can be corrupted?"

"Yes. Though, I'm not quite sure how. But, my intention is to give you one of the nastiest ones I know of."

"Which is?"

"The Shivering Silhouette. From what I understand, the intention of the charm was to make your enemies have a high chance to miss their ranged attacks. And for the longest time, it worked. However, it doesn't do that anymore. Instead, it now makes you writhe and moan like you're fever-sick."

"So if I lose, I get to experience the Plague?"

"Yes."

"Why are you becoming so…malevolent?"

"I don't know. Lurk's hatred must have finally become contagious."

"Apparently so, Thomas."

"Do you accept the wager, or not?"

I hesitated, uncertain how to answer. _Is he testing me?_

"I need an answer, Arissa."

 _Yes. He has to be. No one in their rational mind would want to experience the Plague. I am going to call his bluff._

"No," I answered, bluntly. "I will not fall for your deceit."

Thomas tilted his head. "Interesting. But how did you…?"

"We are friends. And friends do not try to make each other experience the Rat Plague. Yet, if you want another answer…I did not know anything. I simply took a risk, and it paid off."

"Very interesting, indeed…" I heard him mutter.

Thomas said nothing after that, and neither did I.

We continued our journey in silence.

* * *

Our training area used to be the grand foyer of the asylum. Since we had taken up residence here, Master Daud had gone to great lengths over the years to modify it to fit our needs. Mirrors lined one of the walls, and floors that were once made of tile were now made of hard stone. Along the far wall were the weapon racks. Swords, wristbows, crossbows, and pistols were just some of the weapons on display. And of course, there were the well-used training dummies. Everything in this room served one purpose or another.

 _I do not know whether Kieron speaks true about our Master or not…Yet, at least Master Daud has consistency._

Master Daud stood with his back to the mirrored wall. He was holding a _Hau Ji Gwan - Seurng Tau Gwan._ I am uncertain of the language, and the translation of the term. I believe it could be Pandyssian in origin. Regardless, the weapon itself was a double-ended staff. That much I did know. Sadly, it was a _blunted_ double-ended staff. No pointy ends.

"You're late," Master Daud said, tersely. His gaze was focused on Thomas.

"My apologies, Master," he replied. "It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't."

"Yes, Master. It won't."

Master Daud nodded his approval. "Now that the two of you are here, I want four lines based on rank."

 _Four lines?_ I looked about the room. Quickly, I realized that I was the _only_ Novice here. The entirety of the command chain was here, as well as every Mentor and two of my eldest brothers. And since Master Daud said "lines based on rank," I knew that I would be standing next to…

Outsider's eyes, what is his name again? Is that Carlo or Fergus? They are impossible to tell apart. I think…I think I am standing next to Fergus.

"By now, you're wondering why I've called all of you here. Well, the twelve of you are some of the best men I have to offer. And I give compliments sparingly, so take that as one. Today, each of you will be tested to and beyond your limits. Whoever succeeds in these Trials will be accompanying me to Dunwall Tower, come the Month of Earth," Master Daud said, fastidiously. He stepped off to the side. "With that being said, Lurk, you may lead the warm up."

"Yes, sir," Lurk replied, skulking forward.

Our warm-ups consisted of many different types of exercises and counts. They differed greatly from what I was used to, when Mentor Galia would train the Novices. I kept a close eye on my brother, to copy his movements on the exercises I did not know. I was aware of the fact that I was cheating. Yet, what else was I supposed to do? I was already discomforted enough as it was.

And it was not even _close_ to midday.

I noticed that Master Daud was studying us intently. His eyes met mine more than once. And for some reason, it bothered me. _What are his expectations of me? He knows just as well as I do that I should not be here, regardless of me being on the cusp of my promotion. And between the note and Thomas's behavior…Will these incessant tests ever end?_

 _I doubt it._

 _I highly, highly doubt it._

"At the ready!" Master Daud snapped, authoritatively.

In almost perfect unison, we clicked our heels together. Then, we proceeded to turn our hands into fists, and turn our arms in, over, and in. Our fists now rested on our waists, our elbows as far back as they could go. I know how strange this sounds. Believe me, I do. Yet, it somehow makes a lot more sense when you see yourself doing it. Or, at least it does to me.

Our Master reached into his bolt pouch, and produced a pocket watch. "Stances. Rotation of Eight, twenty-five minutes per stance. Begin."

Uh…Did he just say _twenty-five_ minutes!? Outsider's eyes, this is…this is going to hurt…

So, uh…Stances. Right. The first stance is, uh…Horse Stance. When I was little, I thought they called it that because it looked like a horse. Eventually, I learned it was called that because it makes you appear as though you are _riding_ a horse. You have to keep your legs shoulder-width apart. Your knees have to face forward. Your back must be perfectly straight. And the whole time, you must keep your knees bent, and your hands on your waist.

Stances are brutal. Yet, stances are necessary. I have told myself that on more than one occasion. Yet, if it is a rotation of eight, and we have to hold the stance for twenty-five minutes per stance…

 _Well…I always wondered what it would be like to pass out during training. Today, I might finally get to experience that._

Master Daud prowled the floor, scrutinizing each of our stances. He was looking for imperfections. He would do this for each stance. This Trial was as much a test of your physicality, as it was your emotionality. Who would break first? Would someone fall? Would someone lose consciousness? There were many variables, and many of them would come to fruition.

 _Where is all of this coming from? Have I been listening to too many of my brothers' conversations? Or have I paid that much attention to our Master, that I know some of his tricks?_

 _What if my brothers are right? What if I have truly changed? And if I did…Have I changed for the better, or for the worst?_

* * *

All right…First stance, not so bad…Yet, how am I supposed to endure nearly _five hours_ of this? My legs are already beginning to tremble, and I need to get my breathing under control…

"Change stances!" Master Daud ordered.

 _Oh no…Not twenty-five minutes of this…_

 _Not cat stance…_

This is one of the most brutal stances ever created. You have to put all of your weight on one leg, while keeping your opposite leg, and foot, weightless. And I just _know_ that this is our Master's favorite stance. I have caught glimpses of his eyes darting back and forth. From the looks of it, he found his target.

Of course, it had to be me. _Lucky me…_

"Has the pain gotten to you yet?" he whispered darkly. "I can see the despair on your face, Arissa. How much longer do you think you'll last?"

"As long…" I took a deep breath. "As long as you need me to, Master."

I quickly shifted my stance, right as Master Daud kicked my foot out from under me. I sighed in relief. I had not been knocked off balance. I had passed that test, thank the Outsider. Though, my Master did reposition my foot with the double-ended staff, afterwards.

"I wonder what hurts the most. Is it your knees? Is it your delicate little feet? Or is it your legs? You've been shaking like a leaf for the past twenty-three minutes. Do you really think you have what it takes to become a Master Assassin? Do you really think you have what it takes to murder the Empress?"

 _Do not show emotion. Do not react. Do not show emotion. Do not react._

"This is laughable, Arissa. With the amount of training you've been put through over the years, you shouldn't be able to feel pain at all. And yet, here you stand…knocked down a few pegs because of it. How does it feel to know that you're worthless? That you're so close to becoming something bigger, yet still so far away? You're crumbling. It makes me wonder how much longer you have until you fall."

"I will not fall…nor will I fail…"

Master Daud laughed. "Keep telling yourself that, kid. Delusions won't get you very far in this business."

"Really?" I asked. "I beg to differ."

 _Damn. I really need to focus. If I continue to allow myself to be twisted up in pain, I will only end up hurting myself more. I need to entrance myself with something. Anything._

 _Should I lose myself to my imagination? As stupid as that sounds, it just might work._

I closed my eyes, and stilled my breathing. I heard Master Daud walk away. Then, I exhaled. _Focus on something…Anything…_

 _Kieron's smile…The way he laughs…The trust I have for him…The safety I feel around him…_

 _Why do I feel this way? Why do I feel…alive, when I think of him? Does he think of me the same way? Is that why he is so angry with Master Daud? Because our Master…_

 _Outsider's eyes…What is wrong with me?_

* * *

"Change stances!" Master Daud barked.

Naturally, we obeyed.

Presently, I can barely feel my legs. And now I have to hold a forward stance. Fortunately, this stance is not as painful. You get to evenly distribute your weight on this one. The only oddity is keeping one knee bent, and the other hyperextended.

"You know, it's a good thing that no one's gotten out of their stance yet," Master Daud taunted. "Whoever fails to remain in their stance will be eliminated from the Trial, and sent back to their duties. And, Killian? I'm looking at you."

"I don't see why, Master," Mentor Killian retorted. "I've been a good student."

"Is that why I've seen you spring up more than once? Or is it because you're an alchemist, and you don't enjoy getting blood on your hands?"

"If we must go there, Master, then yes. I consider blood to be nothing compared to the accidental inhalation of hemlock, or worse."

"If you have no interest in bloodied hands, then perhaps you should return to your lab."

All of a sudden, I saw Mentor Killian come out of his stance. Everyone in the room gasped at that moment. _No, Killian…Do not do this…Please do not do this…_

"Then I shall," he replied, his voice wintry. "I have no desire to kill the Empress. And neither should any of you."

With those words spoken, Killian bowed to our Master, and then transversed away.

Master Daud stood there, stunned. He had just been openly disrespected by one of his mentors. And it was bloodcurdling, seeing that he was at a loss for how to react.

Finally, our Master spoke. "In light of recent events, everyone stand up and breathe."

Everyone hesitated to do so.

"That was an order!"

We obeyed the command, everyone turning to face our Master. We awaited his word. We did not dare to speak. Not with something like this happening. Tensions were high, and they did not need to be higher.

"Lurk, Carlo, Fergus, and Arissa, the four of you will accompany me to Dunwall Tower," Master Daud said, his voice cold. "For now, you are all dismissed. I'll summon you when it's time to resume your training."

He transversed out of the room.

My family and I glanced at each other, wondering what in the name of the Void had just occurred. Yet, I could not help but wonder if we would soon be having a funeral. Under normal circumstances, that would be the case. The usual price of disrespect is death. However, Killian is a Mentor. He is also an alchemical savant. Would Master Daud actually execute him, and waste his talents? It did not seem likely…

Yet, I suppose that stranger things have happened before…


	19. The Pond

**_Chapter Nineteen_**

 ** _The Pond_**

* * *

Kieron and I sat on a bench, out in the gardens. The sun was just beginning to set over Dunwall. Clouds dotted the sky, and the air felt damp. It would rain soon. Somehow, it felt appropriate, given what happened earlier this morning.

I surreptitiously glanced at Kieron, watching as he ran his hands through his hair. He gathered it, and began to tie it back into a tail. I do not think it fit him very well. He is too…jocular to be aristocratic.

"The two of them have been sparring for hours, now," I said, shifting my gaze to one of the uppermost windows of the Asylum. "Do you think Killian is okay?"

"He knows how to hold his own in a fight."

"I never said he did not. I just hope…"

"Stop worrying, Arissa. He'll be fine. Daud wouldn't dare kill him, especially not with the things he knows."

"Yes, but our Master knows more."

"Alas, my dear, that is not really the case. If Daud truly knew everything, then why does he need a gang of assassins to add credence to his legacy?"

I sighed. "I do not know."

"You'll need to. What if you're in Killian's position one day? When Daud gets into one of his moods, one misstep could cost you your life. I've seen it happen time and time again. But who am I kidding? You're practically his puppy now; blindly loyal and willing to take her Master's abuses."

His words made my flinch. _Is that truly how my brothers see me? Is that the reason why they keep using dog analogies?_

Kieron swore in Serkonan. "Arissa, I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that. I was thinking out loud…"

"No, Kieron, it is…It is okay," I interjected. "You do not need to apologize for speaking your heart."

He put his hand on my shoulder, and I turned to face him. "Are you okay?"

"I am as okay as I can be, given the circumstances. Yet, if I ever hear the words, "Rotation of Eight, twenty-five minutes per stance" again, I am going to kill myself."

He laughed. "I won't argue with you there. Usually, the Rotation of Eight only takes about two hours to complete. After this morning, I'm tempted to ask Rapha for laudanum."

"You? Laudanum? What happened to that "inhuman endurance" you are always bragging to me about?"

"I still have it!" he replied, defensively. "I was having an off day."

I rolled my eyes.

"It's only going to get worse, you know. Killing an Empress, kidnapping her daughter…Those are not small burdens to bear. I'm certain that we'll even become _loose ends_ in the eyes of the Royal Spymaster. We won't be safe, no matter where we go. As it is now, you won't be safe working with Billie, and…" Kieron sighed. "By the Outsider, I sound like a nagging old woman, don't I?"

"Wait…Kieron…You mean to tell me that you have been a man this whole time?"

Kieron grabbed his chest. "My heart…Why do you wound me so, my fair maiden?"

"I believe it is called…recompense."

"Recompense? Are you sure about that?"

"I…uh…" I buried my face in my hands, to hide my embarrassment. "No…"

Kieron patted my shoulder. "There, there. It happens to every non-native Gristolian speaker," he paused. "Listen…All I want is for you to be careful, okay? You've been through a lot lately, and I…don't want to see you get hurt anymore."

I rested my hands on my lap, and I looked up at my brother. "I do not understand…"

"What don't you understand?" he asked.

"Why do I keep experiencing these feelings of confliction? On some days, I believe that everything I do is just for business. And on others…"

"You can still get out of the Business of Death, Arissa. But we'd need to stop Daud before you do."

"Did I not try that once already?" I said, harsher than I meant to be. "It is bad enough that it feels as though I live in a fog. What else could our Master possibly do to me? Wait…No. Do not answer that. I do not want to even acknowledge the thought. Yet, even if I did manage to get out, where would I go?"

"You could become a prostitute, at the Golden Cat," he said, cheerfully.

"Kieron!"

"What? You'd make plenty of coin."

"I am not selling my body to dirty old men."

"Oh, come on. Don't be like that. We already do that now."

"Are you implying that assassins are no better than whores?"

"Well, think about it. We both sell selective services for coin. The nature of our businesses is legally questionable. Hmm, what else…Ah, yes. We are both typically employed by dirty old men, as you so eloquently put it."

I was about to say something, yet I stopped myself. I honestly had no idea how to reply to that. _Outsider's eyes, he really does look strange with a ponytail…_

 _…_ _And why in the Void did I just think that?_

"So," Kieron said, rousing me from my thoughts, "do you enjoy staring contests often?"

"Yes…? No…Perhaps?" I sighed in frustration. "Sorry."

Kieron leaned all the way back against the bench, closing his eyes. There was a smirk on his lips. "Do you know that you blush, when you get flustered?"

"I do not."

"I can most certainly assure you, my little Lady Carrot-Head, that you do. Like right now, for example. Your face looks like a newly blossomed rose, vibrant in color and…thorny?"

I tilted my head questioningly. "Still having that off day, Kieron?"

He shrugged. "I suppose I am."

 _What was he trying to accomplish, I wonder? I suppose it is not worth dwelling on…_

"Can I ask you something, my brother?"

"Hmm?"

"What do you think happens when we die?"

"Let me think…Your body gets tossed into the Wrenhaven. You could get devoured by rats. Or, if we were still in Serkonos, you could become a bloodfly nest."

"I was being serious."

"So was I. Why are you asking that, anyway?"

"I do not know. It is something I have always wondered, I suppose."

Kieron began to whisper something under his breath, though I could not hear what he was saying. Finally, after a long pause, he spoke aloud, "For a time, I believe that we cease to exist. Our souls are sent to a nameless realm, and it is there that they temporarily rest, as we wait out the days for a new host to be born. Eventually, our souls are brought forth from this realm, and given a new body to call home. However, we have no recollection of who we were in our previous life. We simply begin anew, in a never-ending cycle of life and death."

I stared at my brother for a long moment. I had only asked the question to continue our conversation. However, his answer astonished me. I always thought that Kieron was more intelligent than he let on he is. I know that is especially the case with Thomas, and to an extent, some of my Novice brothers. Yet, if that is true, then what does Kieron consider me? Am I nothing more to him than a pawn in _his_ game?

"Do you honestly believe that?" I asked, breaking the silence that had fallen between us.

He nodded. "Yes. After all, magic is real. So, I believe that reincarnation is, too."

Kieron transversed onto his feet, and offered me his hand. I took it, and he helped me to my feet. Yet, he did not release his grasp. He began to lead me away.

My heart began to flutter, and I did not know why. Everything in my rational mind told me that I should be wary. Yet, my irrational mind told me to follow him without hesitation. And it scared me…because I had chosen to listen to my irrational mind.

I chose to follow what my heart wanted.

 _But why?_

Kieron led me to a section of the gardens I had never seen before. And it was no wonder. The pathway was quite hidden. The cobblestones were barely discernible underneath the overgrown grass, trees, and plants.

"Where are we going?" I whispered.

"You'll see, my Lady."

As we walked, the sun disappeared completely from the sky. Night had officially fallen over Dunwall. The moon's light was casting an eerie glow over the landscape, and I found my free hand resting on the hilt of my blade. It remained there. I also found myself unusually close to Kieron. And it was only because I had lost some of my appreciation of the darkness, after being kept in isolation for so many days.

I do not know how long we had been walking. My legs were sure as the Void protesting, though. Eventually, we came to a clearing, and Kieron continued leading me forward. When we finally stopped, we were gazing out at a pond. Its greenish waters were littered with fallen leaves and petals.

"Why did you bring me here?" I inquired, letting go of his hand.

"How long have we been friends, Arissa?" he retorted.

"Since we were children…and you were the only other person next to Master Daud that spoke Serkonan."

Kieron stepped closer to me. "What would you say if I found you to be _bellissima?_ "

"I…may wonder if you have begun drinking whiskey, or rum, or absinthe today."

"Hey, I only drink on special occasions. You should try it some time."

"I would rather not."

"And why is that?"

"Because someone needs to stay sober enough to paint juvenile images on our brothers that are passed out drunk."

"You know what? I will give you that one," Kieron cleared his throat, as though he was nervous. "Right, so…Give me a minute."

He suddenly transversed away.

"Okay. I will just stay here…in the darkness…By myself…"

I unsheathed my blade and sat down cross-legged on the ground, waiting for Kieron to return.

* * *

I was whistling _The Drunken Whaler,_ out of sheer boredom. Kieron had yet to return. I had no idea where he had taken me. And I was _not_ about to attempt a long-distance transversal. At least not without someone to "latch" onto.

"I have returned, my fair maiden."

Startled, I transversed onto my feet, and held the tip of my blade to Kieron's throat.

"How charming," he said, blankly.

"You…You _bastardo!_ " I lowered my blade. "Where have you been?"

Kieron got down on one knee, and with both hands, held out a red rose.

 _What…is he doing?_

"Arissa, Arissa, how could one ever miss ya. Piercing eyes of amethyst, eyes that pierce one's soul. You have pierced mine, and I am no fool. Allow me to court you, and make you my Empress…You are my _amico mio_ , yet now I would like to call you _amore mio_."

 _He…is a terrible poet…And I cannot believe he just said those words. He actually wants to court me? Are we even allowed to do so, as assassins?_

"Kieron, I…I do not know what to say…"

"That I have terrible poetry?" he smiled.

"Well…yes. However, mine is not any better," I paused. "Are you entirely certain about this? You actually want to court me, of all people?"

"I've had our entire childhoods to contemplate this. Yes, I want to court _you_ , Arissa."

I summoned forth my magic, and used my tethering to pull the rose into my hand. I felt myself smiling in a way I never had before. I was…elated. I actually _felt_ emotion. Raw, and true, emotion!

"I want to be yours, Kieron," I said. "On one condition."

"No more poetry?"

"No more poetry."

Kieron stood up, and wrapped his arms around my waist. "Agreed. I hate poetry anyways. So, do you know what this means?"

I shook my head no.

"It means that I get to whisk you off in the night, without the knowledge of the others."

"Sounds…dangerous. Yet somehow, it also sounds fun."

"You do realize that if this works out, I intend to marry you?"

"You do realize that if you get on my bad side, I am skilled with a blade?"

"My fair maiden, that is twice now you have wounded me tonight."

I shrugged, a smirk appearing on my lips. "Perhaps I am simply protective of what is mine."

"Tell me, then. What do you think of this?"

Kieron kissed me, and I froze in place. So many uncertainties began running through my head. Yet, I knew one thing with utmost certainty…I did not want him to stop. I felt…safe with him. I felt as though I could be as protective of him, as he is of me. And at that moment, I did not care that my Master had changed me.

I decided that if _Master_ Daud ever tried to hurt Kieron…

…I would kill him myself, or die trying, before he could take my beloved away from me.

 _What is that high-pitched moan, that song? Why does my neck feel as though it is vibrating? This cannot be good._

Kieron pulled away, tracing his finger across my neck, where a chain of silver now rested on it. "It cost me a small fortune to have this made for you, but it was worth every coin spent."

I took the necklace in my hand, studying it intently. There was no hiding my surprise. It was a bone charm, shaped like a crescent moon. The charm itself was inscribed in Serkonan, and it said, "Void Channel." The necklace was made of silver. However, it was not silver from the Pendleton mines. It was not from Gristol at all.

It was from Karnaca.

 _He has given me a piece of home…_

"This is…incredible…" I breathed, uncertain what else to say.

"I figured since you will become a Master soon, it was only fitting that you got your first bone charm. It's supposed to improve the effects of your magic. And it'd better work, or I'm going to shank the people I hired to make it."

" _Mille grazie,_ Kieron."

"You're welcome, my fiery little redhead," he replied. "The night is still somewhat young. Why don't you sit down? I have a story I'd like to tell you, before we head home."

I sat down on the ground. "All right. What is it about?"

He sat down next to me, wrapping his arm around me. "Do you believe in spirits, Arissa?"

"Yes, of course."

"Have you heard of the Woman in White?"

I shook my head no.

"Then let me tell you the story of Mereedee, and how her spirit is going to help us find the traitorous bastard within our ranks."


	20. Mereedee

**_Chapter Twenty_**

 ** _Mereedee_**

* * *

I glanced at Kieron, skeptically. While I did believe in spirits, I was not particularly sold on the idea that one could help us find the traitor. However, I cannot completely discount this tale without having heard it first. That would be a foolish mistake, especially given the Whalers' intimacy with black magic.

 _And if there is one thing I need to stop doing, it is making foolish mistakes. I do not want my head to end up on a pike. Nor do I desire to be thrown in the Wrenhaven, or eaten by rats._

I brushed my bangs out of my eyes, and said, "Okay, Kieron. You have my full attention. Tell me how this Woman in White is going to help us."

"Right. So, the story goes that, a long time ago, there was a woman named Mereedee Kirke. She came from Tamarak, Tyvia, immigrating to Dunwall at the age of twenty-six. She had nothing but the clothes on her back and what little coin she had in her purse. Unable to find work, she had no choice but to sell her body in the back alleys of the Distillery District."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why didn't she just work for the Golden Cat?"

Kieron shrugged. "I don't know. Now, be quiet. It's story time."

"Touchy," I muttered loud enough for him to hear me, and curled my lips into a smirk.

He rolled his eyes. "When she didn't need to buy food or clothing, Mereedee would buy books to educate herself with. She learned how to apply medicine. Eventually, she was able to start buying medical kits. Then, instead of selling her body, she would sell her skills. Of course, it didn't take long for word to spread about her on Bottle Street. As you can imagine, Doctor Galvani was not particularly happy about this woman.

"On a fateful night, on the seventeenth day of the Month of Songs, in the year 1804, a man approached her. He offered her a job at the newly established Oracle Natividad's Asylum for Natural Philosophical Research, as a nurse. Without hesitation, she took the job. It didn't take long for people to learn that her kind-hearted nature was counter-balanced by a malevolent one. After her first few days on the job, they took to calling her Shearing Beauty."

I absently began to bite my lower lip, as I attempted to translate what the name meant. I sighed, unable to figure it out. _Why is my common tongue failing me tonight? Am I having an off day, as well?_

"What's wrong?" Kieron asked. "You're blushing again."

"I hate to have to ask this, but…Can you repeat all of what you just said, in Serkonan?"

"I'll repeat the whole thing, my dear. Will that help?"

I nodded.

He did repeat the whole story, and now I was having a much better understanding of it. _Ugh…I hope I am just tired. I do not want to have to learn the common tongue again. I disdain speaking it, enough as it is._

"Let me guess," I said finally, yet I chose to speak my native tongue. "Mereedee worked in the Trepanation Wing."

"Actually, she did. How did you…" Kieron paused. "Oh. Right…How many of you were waking up, with patches of hair missing?"

"If memory serves me correctly, it was me, Akila, and I want to say Julian. Or was it Anatole? I can't seem to recall. It was a very long time ago, now."

Kieron ruffled my hair, and I grunted in annoyance, swatting his hand away. This was still a subject that I was somewhat bitter about. And probably not for the reasons one would think, either. Hair grows back. I learned that after watching Lurk get lice. Getting it sheared off? That was its own experience. A painful one, at that. I still dread to think of how many scars I have on my scalp, just from that _one_ experience.

"So, we all know by now that some particularly dark things went on in this Asylum," Kieron continued. "Mereedee saw something that mentally destroyed her, though I'm not quite sure when this happened. And no, she didn't descend into madness over time. She fell into madness like that," he snapped his fingers for effect. "From the old treatment records, she apparently underwent intense hydrotherapy. When that didn't work, they tried electroshock therapy. Then controlled substances. Until finally, they had no choice _but_ to trepan her. It was the only way to stop her from screaming, from day until night."

"Wait," I interjected. "Mereedee was an actual patient here?"

Kieron nodded. "This is her life story. Rapha found her old treatment records, along with her journal that was confiscated from her, when she became a patient here. You should see some of the things this woman wrote about, Arissa. I'm personally glad she's dead and gone."

"Why's that?"

"She makes _us_ look good, and we murder people for a living!"

I whistled. "That bad, I take it?"

"Yes. It's honestly incredible that the Abbey didn't get their hands on her sooner."

"That's definitely saying something…"

"Now, where did I leave off?"

"They trepanned her."

"Ah, yes. Thank you, my dear. So, after the trepanation, she was fine for a few weeks. Stayed silent, ate her meals…Everything was back to normal. Then something happened, and they couldn't get her to stop screaming again. This time, instead of giving her treatment, her former coworkers contacted the Abbey. They said that Mereedee had been possessed by the Outsider, and that she was already corrupted by Him. She was beyond help. According to the death certificate, Mereedee was executed on the first day of the Month of Wind, in the year of 1812. And to think, she worked at the Asylum as a loyal employee for all those years, and the moment she needed them, they abandoned her…

"Anyways, on the day the zealots came for her, Dunwall was weathering a vicious storm. There was thunder, lightning, hail…Practically anything that Mother Nature could throw out, she did. Mereedee was dragged kicking and screaming from her cell, and brought to this pond. The zealots didn't want to waste the bullet on her. They drowned her in these very waters. Her final cause of death was written down as hypothermia, from a failed suicide attempt after she managed to escape her cell."

"That's…cruel, even by the Abbey's standards," I said quietly.

"This is where things start getting…weird. The night that Rapha uncovered these records, he was almost killed in his sleep. Weirder things have been happening since then. Now, we always thought that the water we were being drowned with was coming from the Wrenhaven, but…After seeing this pond, it makes me think differently."

"But why call her the Woman in White? I don't understand that."

"The night Rapha was almost killed, he said he had a dream of a woman – or a child, he didn't know which – screaming at the top of their lungs. He followed the screams, until he turned a corner and a woman suddenly appeared in front of him. She was dressed in a tattered lace gown that reached the floor. Her skin was ashen, and her hair was nothing more than sparse tufts. She reached out to him with a bloodied hand, and touched his heart. Then, her eyes bled black, and his lungs began to fill with water…"

"So the name stuck…"

Kieron nodded. "Every time we've had to resuscitate one of our own, they've had the same dream, Arissa. And I fear it's only a matter of time before Mereedee does the same to you."

"The bitch can try," I growled. "She already got me once. I won't let her get me again."

"You're more fiery than usual, when we speak in our native tongue."

"Is that bad?"

"Oh, no, my dear…Not in the slightest."

I smiled, softly. "I do find it interesting to know that she was a real person. Yet, I don't understand what any of this has to do with finding the traitor, Kieron."

"It's simple. Except not at all."

"Is it ever?"

"No. In this case, not even in the slightest."

"I'm listening."

"We're going to bind her spirit, bring Mereedee to heel, and make her do our bidding."

"This sounds like a horrible idea."

"Do you have a better one?" Kieron retorted.

"No. I don't," I relented. "So, how do we bind her spirit?"

"That's the thing…Master Daud knows how to do this ritual. I think he may have tried to bind Mereedee more than once, I don't know. However, I've seen the ritual notes in his grimoire. We need to find it, copy the notes, and then get the components for the ritual itself."

"How long do we have?"

"The Abbey is breathing down our necks, and from what little I can remember of the notes, I think we need to perform the ritual on the eve of Mereedee's execution."

"Which means we have until the first day of the Month of Wind, I take it…" I paused, contemplating my answer. "So, we have a little over two weeks…"

"Right."

"Perfect," I sighed.

Kieron caressed my cheek. "You're nervous, aren't you? I can see it in your eyes…"

"Of course I am," I whispered. "I don't want this to fail, like everything else has."

Kieron suddenly kissed me, gazing intently into my eyes. _Why does my breathing become heavy, when he does this? Why do I always feel…alive when he does? Are these emotions…normal?_

"Arissa, please stop worrying so much," he said, softly. " _I_ have you. Your _family_ has you. We'll take tomorrow to rest, and then the next day, we'll work on a way to execute this plan. But I need you to trust me, okay?"

"Yes…Yes, of course."

"Good," he smiled. "We should head home, before something tries to kill us. Like a bear…or a wolf…or a Lunatic…"

I shuddered. _That is something else I need to work on. I need to get rid of this newfound dislike of the darkness. How can I possibly be an assassin, if I am afraid of the dark?_

"Don't worry, my Lady. Your Royal Protector will never leave your side."

"Ever?" I questioned.

"That depends on how awkward you want it to get."

I smacked my hand against my forehead. "Is this what it'll be like, if we were to get married?"

"Perhaps, perhaps not. The only way you'll find out is if you say yes."

"Well…now I might just have to say no."

"Why?" Kieron whined. "Why do you keep wounding me tonight? This is the third time now!"

This time, I stole a kiss from him. "Because I am taking advantage of your off day."

"You sly little devil."

I laughed, a smile creeping across my face.

Kieron grasped my hand, and transversed us onto our feet. Then, he transversed us to the Master Assassins' quarters. The moment we came out of the transversal, I let go of his hand, quickly scanning the room out of…paranoia. I did not want any of my brothers to see our closeness. As it turned out, only a few of them were here. And they were fast asleep.

" _Buona sera_ , _amore mio_ ," Kieron whispered in my ear. "May the Outsider protect you."

" _Buona sera_ , _bello_ ," I replied, quietly. "May the Outsider protect you, as well."

He walked over to his bed, on the opposite side of the room. And I will not lie. I watched him as he dressed down to nothing more than his trousers, and slung his clothes lazily over the footboard of his bed. But I was only watching out of curiosity, more than anything else!

 _Keep telling yourself that, Arissa…Keep telling yourself that…_

I shook my head, sighing, as I turned to my bed and…mostly did the same. I dressed down to nothing more than my trousers and my underclothes. Unlike Kieron, however, I folded my clothes over the footboard, and I put my blade underneath my pillow.

Now…Perhaps it was not the _smartest_ thing to do, sticking sharp metal underneath where I lay my head…

Yet, right now, I am too exhausted to care.

As soon as my head hit the pillow, I fell to sleep's embrace.


	21. The Lesser of Two Evils

**_Chapter Twenty-One_**

 ** _The Lesser of Two Evils_**

* * *

 _Outpost Zahannia Seven – Rooftops of Endoria Street_

 _Distillery District, The City of Dunwall, Isle of Gristol_

 _Twentieth Day, Month of Rain, 1836_

 ** __O_O_O__**

I should have known right from the beginning that Kieron was going to be right. To a Whaler, the word complicated has two meanings. The first is self-explanatory. The second is, to quote Thomas, "Something that's complicated to someone else may not always be such to us. Above all else, we're opportunists. When we see openings, we exploit them. That's how you survive life in Dunwall, and life in general."

The plan had seemed simple enough. All we had needed was Master Daud to leave his office. We would pick the lock, instead of transversing through the door. The picking of a lock cannot be heard, while a transversal can. Or, perhaps, we would get lucky. I have heard stories that, on extraordinarily rare occasions, Master Daud's memory will slip, and he will forget to lock his office.

Alas…

Do I really need to say where this is going?

It has gone badly for us from day one!

The precious time that we desperately needed to find the binding ritual, learn its incantations, and gather its components was ticking away. And we were powerless to stop that. It has been a little over a week now, and we were still no closer to achieving our goal than we were before. In fact, we had made no progress at all. And because of that, we had been left with no choice.

We had to search for an alternative.

And we had found one.

Yet, the alternative came with a price. We had to deal with someone whose reputation is far more…shall we say _vivid,_ than our own.

For the past few hours, I have had a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. I did not believe for a split second that we were expected to only pay one price. Things like this…I am beginning to learn that they never go smoothly. That they almost always boil down to two variables: Who is the better persuader, and who is the better negotiator?

Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled and lightning illuminated the sky. I felt a shiver course through my body, as the winds began to pick up in a vicious howl around us. This experience was rather new for me, as I had never actually done field work during a storm before.

And to be perfectly honest, I do not much care for it.

Kieron, Mentor Aedan, and I were standing on the rooftops – or, to be more specific, our Outpost – as we waited for Mentor Rapha to return from his scouting run. The rain was pouring down in buckets on top of us, and the early morning air was frigid. It was somehow managing to penetrate through my industrial leather uniform.

And for that matter, do not even get me _started_ on what the rain has done to my vapor mask. I recently learned what an air filter is made out of. Let me tell you…I never thought that chalk mixed with freezing rubber could have a hideous smell. _Perhaps that is why I have been feeling unwell, since we have been standing out here._

I shrugged to myself, and started pacing around the Outpost. I suppose it is fair to say that I was bored out of my mind. I was beginning to grow very impatient. Something that Master Daud would admonish me for. The strange thing is, I was not sure why. _Nerves, maybe? Yes. It must be._

"Mentor Rapha has been gone for too long," I mused. "Should we perhaps go and look for him?"

Mentor Aedan looked at me, crossing his arms. He was tapping his foot in a puddle that had formed underneath him. Something told me that the look underneath his mask had to be less than pleasant.

"Arissa, what have we told you about worrying?"

I sighed. "That I need to stop worrying about everything and anything, Mentor?"

"Let me ask you what good an assassin is, if all they're focused on is the worriment of every minute detail?"

 _You would turn into Master Daud, naturally…_

"You might want to give the Carrot-Head a pass on this one, Aedan," Kieron chimed in. "I think she is not entirely wrong. We have quite a bit to worry about, given who we're about to conduct business with."

"Kieron, do I even want to know what you're rambling on about?" Mentor Aedan asked.

He shrugged. "I don't know about you, Aedan, but I don't want to be turned into a pet husband, who is force-fed porridge made out of the previous husband, in a decaying subbasement. I would rather my throat be slit swiftly. Then, I wouldn't have to suffer the smell of my boiling flesh, or feel as my bones are stripped of the flesh. And then I definitely wouldn't feel my bones being carved into intricate little charms, the beauties that they are."

You know…I have been in some horrible places, but that…That is a new record for actually making me want to throw up. _Outsider's eyes, I think I did throw up in my mouth a little bit…_

 _Gross…_

Mentor Aedan was staring at Kieron, uncertain how to respond. After a long moment of silence, he finally said, "Kieron, you're such a choffer. Why don't you shut up and do something useful, like watch the streets?"

"I could, but…Who are you to be giving me orders?"

"The man who could still throw you in Coldridge Prison."

"You wouldn't do that. You love me."

"Oh, I would. And then you know what I would do?"

"Do tell me, my dear Watch Officer."

"I'd throw you in the cell with the nastiest man I could find. There's plenty of shady characters locked up in Coldridge. You're even pretty enough to pass off as a woman. I think he'd fancy a bit of fun with you."

"How dare you! I'm only pretty?" Kieron said, exasperated.

"That's even giving you too much credence."

"You're right. I'm beautiful."

"Outsider's eyes," I muttered, shaking my head. "You know…I am the Novice here, and I am really considering telling both of you, in the name of the Void, to shut up."

Kieron began to pat me on the head. "Ahh, Novices…So feisty!"

I swatted his hand away, and grunted in annoyance. "I hate when you do this."

"I know," he replied simply.

I sighed in frustration.

Suddenly, Mentor Rapha materialized in front of us. He tore his mask off of his face and ran a gloved hand through his short, black hair. He was breathing heavily, his skin unusually pale.

"You look like you've either seen a ghost, or just came back from the Void, Rapha," Mentor Aedan said. "In either case, I think I got a cure for that malady, if you want it."

Mentor Rapha glared at Mentor Aedan. "I am, by no means, in the mood to deal with your ludicrousness, Aedan. I don't _want_ your cure. By the Void, _nothing_ will be able to cure me from what I just experienced! I've never smelled anything so…so _foul_ before. And to think – to _think! –_ that I used to work in a morgue before I became a vivisectionist!"

"Mentor Rapha…Are you okay?" I asked, concerned.

"No, I most certainly am not!" he snapped. "It's one thing to _smell_ a corpse, or the secreted oils of a dying whale, or offal runoff, or even things of a purulent nature. But down there…Down there, you don't smell the rain, or the street filth. Outsider's blood, whatever that hag is doing, the smell managed to penetrate through my air filter! Does that alone not tell you three fools the severity of my trauma!?"

Kieron started to circle Mentor Rapha, a spring in his step similar to that of a street brawler. I swear, he was grinning underneath his mask. There was no way he was not.

"So, my dear Rapha, my vivisectionist," he began, "could I perhaps interest you in some opium? Maybe some laudanum? Cigars? Absinthe? Rum? Hallucinogenic berries or mushrooms? How about some tripe? Haggis? Black pudding? Or, perhaps even a very fine woman to f-"

Mentor Rapha clouted Kieron in the abdomen, sending him reeling backwards. "I've had enough of your senseless prattling!" he snarled. "Shut your mouth, or I'll make sure to sew it shut!"

Kieron clutched his abdomen, and I heard him growl lowly in Serkonan, "Message received, _Morleyan._ "

Mentor Aedan put himself between Mentor Rapha and Kieron, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his blade.

"Are the two of you done?" he said, sternly. "Because if you're not, I'll be more than happy to demonstrate how we deal with petulant children in the Watch."

Mentor Rapha sighed, running his hand through his hair again. "Yes…Yes, I believe I'm done."

"You believe, or you are?"

He bowed his head. "I am."

"Good. Now, are we clear to proceed?"

"Yes…Yes, we are. The streets are clear, so I wouldn't expect to encounter any form of resistance. I expect the Bottle Street Boys to leave us alone regardless, but I think the smell scared off any bystanders or Watchmen."

Mentor Aedan nodded. "Excellent. Now, was that so hard?"

Mentor Rapha stayed silent.

"You and Kieron will remain in the Outpost. I _don't_ want to hear any objections from either of you children. I'm taking Arissa down onto the streets and helping her extract the information we need. That's final. Am I understood?"

Kieron and Mentor Rapha stared at each other for a long, awkward, and painful moment. Then, they both nodded their assent.

 _By the Outsider, I hope the two of them do not kill each other while we are gone._

Mentor Aedan turned to me and asked, "You've been practicing your transversals, I noticed. Do you think you can handle transversing down onto the street, without me needing to catch you?"

"I hope so, Mentor," I replied. "Nonetheless, I will do my best."

"That's all any of us can ask of you. Let's head out."

Mentor Aedan transversed away.

I was always fascinated by the magic. How you just… _disappear_ in a puff of dark, smoky tendrils. I began to tap directly into my mana, so I could perform my transversal. Then, I stopped myself. Something felt…different this time, when I began to draw in my power. A small, intense vibration against my skin.

It made me shiver.

Someone put their hand on my arm, to get my attention. I turned, only to see that I was facing Kieron.

"What's the matter?" he asked, trying to keep the concern out of his voice.

"My magic," I replied. "It feels…different."

He began to laugh. "You haven't been practicing with the bone charm, have you?"

I shook my head.

"What you're feeling is good. It means the charm is working."

"Oh…" I said, suddenly embarrassed. "Right…My bad…"

"Go on, Arissa," he said, reassuringly. "You'll be fine."

I took a deep breath, and began to draw in my mana again. Right as I grasped it, I transversed. And to say that I was shocked might be an understatement.

I actually appeared right _next_ to Mentor Aedan. I did not smash myself into a solid brick wall, or a regular wall, or any form of solid object…You get my point. This time, my transversal felt like second-nature to me. Sure, it still felt odd being ripped apart into a bunch of tiny pieces and reassembled again in short order, but…

I should stop, should I not?

 _I do not know how these bone charms work…but I suddenly love them._

…

 _Outsider's eyes! What is that smell!? That is…vile…and disgusting…and…_

"Ever been inside a Weeper den?" Mentor Aedan asked casually, seemingly unfazed by the smell. He was standing in front of the door of a residency, his thumbs hooked into the belt around his waist.

I shook my head. _Wait…Something about his words have been bothering me today. Mentor Aedan is a former Watch Officer…right?_

"Mentor," I asked, "I thought you were no longer an Officer of the City Watch?"

Mentor Aedan chuckled. "Do you ever recall a time where I said I quit?"

I contemplated my answer. "No, Mentor, I cannot."

"Well, it doesn't matter. Just trust me when I say this. This smell? This is child's play, compared to that of a Weeper den. So, let me ask you one more time, Arissa. Are you absolutely certain that you want to go through with this?"

"No, Mentor. I do not want to. I have heard the stories…"

"As we've all have."

"Yet, if you really believe that this will help us…"

"Do you want my opinion as your Mentor, or as a Watch Officer?"

"Both, if it pleases you, Mentor."

Mentor Aedan nodded. "Sometimes, we have to do things that we normally wouldn't do to get the answers that we seek. But we're running out of options, as well as time. So, you asked for my opinion. And it's my opinion that this is our best, and perhaps last, hope."

"Very well, Mentor," I replied. "Then this is the course of action we shall take."

I took another deep breath, and stepped forward. Without hesitation, I knocked on the door three times, and waited for an answer.

From the inside of the home, I heard a ghastly, inhuman shriek, followed by some grumbling. After a long moment, I heard something that vaguely resembled the sound of a transversal. Then, a key fumbling in the tumblers of a lock. The door swung open.

An old woman dressed in finery stood before us, her arms outstretched and a crooked smile on her face.

"Hello, deary," Granny Rags said, as she cupped her hands to her chest. "The black-eyed groom told me that I'd be receiving special visitors today. Oh, yes, yes, yes he did…Now, come inside. Come inside! The streets are no place for the likes of you. And I may just even have a birthday present for you somewhere, deary. Yes, somewhere, somewhere, somewhere…"

Mentor Aedan and I exchanged glances. _This is Granny Rags? She is…not at all what I was expecting._

As we began to step inside of her abode, she suddenly stopped us. Her odd-looking eyes locked on Mentor Aedan.

"And just where do you think you're going, young man?" she asked him. "You're not my deary. Oh no, not _you._ I was talking to the sweet young girl you have with you. Yes…Yes, I was talking to _her._ "

My heart felt as though it skipped a few beats. _How did she…? No. There is no way she could have known my true nature, under this mask…_

Without warning, Granny Rags grabbed me firmly by the wrist, and began to drag me away from Mentor Aedan. I should have easily overpowered her. She had to be at least eighty years old, if not older! And yet, despite all my effort to pull my wrist away from her, to stop myself from being dragged…

I was powerless to stop her. It was as though I was not in control of my own body.

And evidently, neither was Mentor Aedan.

"Aedan!" I cried out for him anyways, fear laced into my voice.

Granny Rags slammed the door in his face, locking it shut and still refusing to let go of me. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that her left hand was glowing. And in that moment, everything made perfect sense, because I'd seen that very same glow before. It meant one thing, and one thing only…

Granny Rags was Marked by the Outsider.

"Hush now, deary," she said, tenderly running a finger down my masked cheek. "I won't hurt you. Much." She laughed, as she twirled a cast-iron pot in her free hand. _What in the Void!? Where did that come from!? It was not there a moment ago!_

"Let me go, you crazy old crone!" I screamed at her, summoning up every last bit of willpower I had to break her magical hold on me.

Again, my efforts were in vain.

"Hush now, deary," she repeated, before she whacked me over the head with the cooking pot.


	22. A Question Posed

**_Chapter Twenty-Two_**

 ** _A Question Posed_**

* * *

" _Wake up._ "

It was not a request.

" _Wake. Up._ "

It was a command.

" _Wake. Up. Now._ "

One I was being compelled to follow.

" _Awaken!_ "

I cried out, my eyes flaring open.

The rain came down in a torrent on top of me. The air around me was growing unnaturally cold. I did not even try to stop my panic. Something was very, very wrong. I was too weak. I was restrained, tied by ankle and wrist. My shivers were convulsions. My mana, my magic, would not heed my call. And my eyes…my eyes…

They could not see.

I was blinded. _Blindfolded? I do not know…_

But then suddenly, the rain stopped.

I flinched, as a glacial hand, unnatural and soft, lifted my head up.

" _Hello, mortal._ "

"You _bastardo!_ " I screamed. "How could you do this to me!?"

The Outsider scoffed. " _Daud would be displeased with you, coming to conclusions so quickly. I've done nothing to you, mortal. Granny Rags, on the other hand…_ "

"Am I…" I hesitated. "Am I dead?"

" _Not yet. Though, I must commend you on your ability to become familiar with chairs and ropes. Your friend has truly been a great influence on you._ "

"Why do my eyes not see?"

" _Why, indeed. Your eyes are open. In fact, you're looking right at me. They are not_ seeing, _mortal. Stop looking, and_ see _. See the world for what it truly is._ "

"How do I do that?"

" _All magic comes from my realm. It comes from the Void. I bestowed upon you your Arcane Bond. You've had a small taste of what_ real _power is like. Now, I will deign to temporarily bestow upon you the power to See. To Gaze. Then, you will tell me what you See. How you answer determines the knowledge I will share with you._ "

I inhaled sharply, as a strange sensation washed over me. It was like a wave of heat, yet not warm heat. I do not know how to properly describe it.

Yet suddenly, I saw the world in three colors: blue, white, and black. The Outsider was standing… _floating_ …before me, his arms crossed. I looked down at my arm. My Arcane Bond was shining fiercely through my glove.

It was disorienting, seeing the world in this spectrum. _What is this? Is this magic?_

The Outsider was tilting his head, watching me intently. _"Your Master had a similar look on his face, once upon a time. This is known as the Void Gaze. Something I gifted him, when I gave him my Mark. This is the first question I pose to you, mortal. What do you See?_ "

I looked up, to see raindrops suspended in mid-air. Time was frozen, in this small sphere. _This has happened before with him, if memory serves me correctly…_

I allowed my eyes to dart from left to right, right to left, as I studied my surroundings, devouring and etching every detail into my mind. I saw my mask dangling at my side. Blood stained my brigade vest. _From being hit in the head with the cooking pot, no doubt._ I still had all my limbs. I was fine. Yes. I was fine.

I shook my head, wincing. _Definitely the cooking pot…Outsider's eyes, this hurts._

Lanterns were scattered about the small, enclosed area. It was illuminated with a light I could not quite discern the color of, in this…this Void Gaze. Behind the Outsider was this…table. It had spikes protruding out of it. On the walls behind the spikes, a silken tapestry hung. It too was colored and had a swirling pattern. Beneath the spikes was a medium-sized, circular object. It looked to be made out of bone, and it was bound with metal.

I could hear it _screeching_. It was emitting an impossible tide of black smoke.

" _Well, mortal?_ " the Outsider asked. " _Tell me what you See._ "

"I am in…a small backyard. It was once a garden, perhaps? Now, it is a…a shrine. And this shrine is…It is dedicated to you."

The Outsider's lips curled into a smirk. " _Well. It appears you're not as useless as you make yourself out to be. Do you know that you have a habit of doing that?_ "

I attempted to shake my head, yet I only winced once more.

" _And this is why you fascinate me, mortal. You're too_ blind _to realize just how much you mirror your Master. It's amusing, how everyone sees it but you. Perhaps this is because you do not wish to see the truth. Yet, this is also your folly. Do you not know that every choice you make – even a choice as benign as your next meal – has a consequence? Your fate is intertwined with Daud's, yes. But I will share something with you, just this once._

" _You're going to succeed where he has failed._ "

"Why? How?" I whispered, uncertain of any other words to speak.

" _Once you took your first and second blood_ ," the Outsider continued, as if I had not spoken, " _you were marred. Unknowingly, you consigned yourself to be your Master's weapon. You started the machinery. He will be the end of it, when he attempts to throw himself against it in order to dodge his fate. Already, he begins to burn as brightly as a dying star._ "

I watched as the Outsider began to pace back and forth, if you could even call it that. It was…interesting, to say the least.

" _All of this could have been avoided. Your mind could have still been your own, had you only remembered your training. Yet, in every strand of your Time that I searched, you never once considered sparing the lives of your captors. You desired blood, and blood is exactly what you spilt. Nonetheless, I desire to pose another question to you. I want you to_ see, _not_ look. _Do you understand, mortal?_ "

I half-nodded.

" _What if a powerful man has a mistress, who bears him a daughter? Then, a year later, his wife bears him a daughter, as well. His daughters become friends, until one day, they are not. In this brief span of time, this man's single decision has created countless more decisions that now must be made. These decisions will affect the lives of all those living across an Empire for the entirety of the next mortal generation._

" _Introduce into this another variable. The man's wife dies, along with what would have been his son and heir. Stricken with grief, he takes a retreat, and finds solace in the arms of a courtesan. She is a woman known by many names, and many different professions._

" _As with the mistress before her, she overplays her hand and loses his favor. He leaves without as much as a goodbye, never realizing that he has impregnated this woman. Their child is a sickly girl, who was born in gloom. He now has three daughters; only one is the true heir by law._

" _His bastards are considered of little consequence to the world. In fact, the youngest one does not even share the ambitions of her sisters, having been blinded to her heritage and the power it would allow her to wield._

" _Empires will now turn upon the actions of three sisters: a maiden, a mother, and a crone. A mystery…A gift…And a curse._

 _"_ _So I ask of you, Arissa Gwethalyn Daurana…Is it laughable, or contemptible, that an incalculable number of innocents will, or have had, their destinies altered by a single, powerful man's decision to act upon his desire for numerous women?_ "

With those words, the Outsider turned to his shrine, vanishing before my eyes.

When he did so, the Void Gaze vanished, as well.

And my eyes returned to the darkness.


	23. A Master Always Knows Their Students

**_Chapter Twenty-Three_**

 ** _A Master Always Knows Their Students_**

* * *

 _Oracle Natividad's Asylum for Natural Philosophical Research_

 _Research District, The City of Dunwall, Isle of Gristol_

 _Twentieth Day, Month of Rain, 1836_

 ** __X_X_X__**

Billie Lurk sat at her desk, her feet propped up on it. For the last hour, she'd been watching me intently. For the last hour, I've ignored her. She didn't speak, and neither did I. For as long as I'd known her, Billie was like my shadow. Always watching me. Always mimicking me. Always following me on contracts I'd intended to complete alone. Time and time again, I'd tell her to go home. I've even reprimanded her for her disobedience.

She never left my side, no matter what I said or did to her.

Recently, her inquisitiveness has become more intense. She always had a quiet curiosity, but never like this. It was something I needed to keep an eye on. _Something I intend on doing._

Today I was spending time organizing my upcoming contracts, for the Royal Spymaster. It would take many months of assassinating potential – _direct_ – threats to his schemes. Many months of training for the team I'd chosen to accompany me to Dunwall Tower. Many months of arranging "accidents"; preparations; scouting runs; well-placed bribes…so on, and so forth.

All of this, leading up to the assassination of the Empress herself.

 _Empires aren't built in a day. But they sure can crumble in one._

 _I wonder how Dunwall will fare. It's always been tangled up worse than a bag of snakes…_

"Daud," Lurk said, finally breaking the silence. "We need to talk."

"About what?" I inquired, as I continued my work of writing down a list of toxins I needed to purchase, for one of the "accidents" I had to arrange.

"Well…I've been doing what you asked. You know. Scouting. It won't be pretty, but I may have found our new home. If the rumors are true – and I suspect that they are – no one will be able, or want, to find us."

I set my pen down on the desk, finally looking up at her. "I'm listening. Continue."

"According to one of my contacts, the flood barriers in the Financial District are history. The river's rushing in. There's chaos and looting everywhere. People are trying to move what they can before it gets stolen or torched. My thoughts are that we should make a move, when things calm down a bit. We should seize Central Rudshore for ourselves. The Commerce building, and its surrounding structures, should be quite defensible."

"Interesting…" I said, tapping my fingers against the desk. "And have you gone to the Financial District to _personally_ confirm that your contact in question spoke true?"

Billie shook her head. "Not yet, sir. I only received word of this yesterday. Thought it'd be a good idea to discuss this with you first. Get your thoughts on the matter."

"If we're in a position to seize Central Rudshore, then we will. But I need confirmation from your eyes first, before we proceed. You know _exactly_ why I distrust your contact."

She sighed. "Yes, sir, I'm well aware of that. You've never let me forget it."

"Nor do I intend to."

"So, I'll check out the Financial District within the week."

"Good," I replied. "Now, is that all?"

"No, sir. It isn't."

"Very well. What else did you need to discuss?"

A smug look came across Billie's face. Immediately, I rolled my eyes. I knew what was coming. And I'm damn tired of hearing about it. No matter what she said to me on the subject, I wasn't going to be dissuaded. This was a move I wanted to make sooner, rather than later. _If only she could get that through her thick skull._

"Well, sir…You are aware that Kieron, Aedan, Rapha, and your _precious_ little Novice have been missing since this morning. Aren't you?"

"I'm more than well aware of the things that happen in this Asylum, Lurk," I said flatly. "What of it?"

"She's taking help from the Masters on her assignment."

"And?"

"You're still going to promote her?"

"If she proves herself to be worthy of the rank, then yes."

"But a _command_ position? You're making a grave mistake."

"The decision is mine to make, not yours. Thomas is becoming a lieutenant. He'll be working alongside you more closely. In his stead, Arissa will take the mantle of commander, for the Master Assassins."

Lurk scoffed. "She's only a teenager. And she's only killed twice."

"And expeditiousness is no substitute for deliberateness."

"What's that supposed to mean, exactly?"

"It means that Arissa's been a Whaler as long as you have. The training's there, and so is the discipline. If she falls flat on her face because she is incapable of handling her newfound duties, then so be it. She will be easily replaced. But the men seem to trust her-"

"Not all of them do," she growled.

"The _important_ ones do," I retorted. "Or have you forgotten that I consider most of you as expendable?"

"I still believe you're making a grave mistake, sir."

"Believe what you want, but you're inserting yourself into matters that don't concern you," I paused. "You know, while you're at it, Billie…Why don't you do something useful, like check the dead drops. We have payments awaiting pickup."

Billie sighed, transversing onto her feet. "Yes, sir. Anything else?"

"Since you so kindly offered, go check up on your sister and the others. You've already been spying on her, so I don't see the problem in having you do some _useful_ reconnaissance."

"Mmm…About that, sir…"

"What now?"

"Four hours ago, maybe even more at this point, Arissa was captured by Granny Rags."

I swore under my breath in Serkonan, standing up abruptly. "And you didn't _think_ to tell me this… _why_?"

She shrugged, crossing her arms. "She's a big girl. I figured she could handle herself."

I grabbed my blade off the table behind me, putting it through the loop on my belt. "Go check the dead drops," I said, an authoritative growl to my voice. "I'll deal with you when I get back."

"Oh, let me guess…You're going to go be her knight in shining armor again, aren't you?"

I glared dead into Billie's eyes, causing her to flinch. "Silence yourself and follow your orders, or I'm going to make you regret disobeying me. Your choice, Lurk."

Before she even had a chance to respond, I took a deep breath, tapped into my mana, and transversed away.


	24. Murophobia

**_Chapter Twenty-Four_**

 ** _Murophobia_**

* * *

 _The Residence of Granny Rags – Endoria Street_

 _Distillery District, The City of Dunwall, Isle of Gristol_

 _Twentieth Day, Month of Rain, 1836_

 ** __O_O_O__**

A powerful man. A dead wife and child. Two mistresses.

A maiden. A mother. A crone.

A mystery. A gift. A curse.

Who are these individuals? And _why_ should I care?

I am trussed up like an animal waiting to be slaughtered. I am soaking wet. I cannot stop shivering. I cannot see. Oh, and the best part is? I _know_ I can get out of these bonds, _if I could transverse!_

I sighed. _I cannot recall if I have said this before or not, but Master Daud is right. The Outsider is a Black-Eyed Bastard with all of this cryptic nonsense._

But what if I only have myself to blame, for getting into this mess? If I had only been content to stay a Novice, then perhaps…Perhaps I would not be sitting out in the rain, waiting for Granny Rags to murder me and turn me into stew…

 _Since when do murderers murder other murderers?!_

 _Huh…Say that five times, fast…_

I began to hum under my breath. For once, it was not _The Drunken Whaler._ No…It was a lullaby. Not…that I had learned it from Master Daud. The memory is…hazy. I can recall a woman, yet I cannot recall her features or her name. I always heard that your life flashes before your eyes, the moments before you die. Am I…remembering my mother?

"After spells, three times called," I quietly sang, "After gold dust, three times fall. Come, maiden. Mistress, mouse, and hen. Come fisher, farmer. Frog and wren…"

 _Wait…spells…Three times called…_

 _Magic…_

 _My Arcane Bond…_

 _That is it! I know how to get out of here!_

"You poor little dear!" Granny Rags said.

I flinched. _Where in the Void did she come from!? How did I not hear her approach!?_

"Look at you! You're shivering something awful, deary. Would you like to come inside?"

I shook my head. "N-n-no…I would rather not."

Granny Rags smacked me across the cheek. "So rude! Here is your Granny, offering you hospitality…And instead, you choose to bite the hand that's trying to feed you."

"Please do not feed me," I muttered.

She smacked me again, harder this time. _This is someone who is used to beating servants. Granny Rags…were you nobility, once?_ "Didn't your parents teach you manners? Ah…but I suppose I shouldn't expect much, especially from a Serkonan whelp. So uncultured, you Serkonans."

"That is funny, because the last time I checked, the Gristolian aristocracy is always stealing our dances," I retorted. "I bet you miss dancing. Do you not?"

Silence ensued, and I had to fight the urge to indulge one of my anxious ticks. Yet, the silence proved to me one thing. I struck a nerve, which means I was not wrong.

Granny Rags was a noble, at one time or another.

"I bet you were even young and beautiful once," I decided to continue. "You probably had countless men begging for your hand. What happened, Granny? What happened to you, to turn you into this cruel, old hag?"

Granny Rags laughed. And I swear, if evil had a sound, it would definitely be her laughter. _Well, maybe it is threefold. The sound of evil could also be babies and children, laughing and screaming as they play. Outsider's eyes, I do not know which I disdain more…_

"My black-eyed groom told me about you," she said. "Yes, yes, yes…He told me _quite_ a bit about you, indeed, deary. How you're a vicious little thing, wanting nothing but _power_. How you believe that you'll be a better Master than the man you serve. Yes…I know all about you, deary. You're not a nice person. Oh, no, no, no…Not a nice person at all."

My fingers twitched, and I felt them begin to curl into fists. "You do not know me," I hissed.

"I struck a nerve, didn't I? That's good…very good…I like a spirited bit of prey."

"What do you want with me?" I asked, my voice now void of all emotion.

Granny Rags ran her wrinkled, greasy fingers through my hair. "What do I want…I want plenty of things, deary. I want the bones of a great leviathan. Ah, but those are in such short supply…So, your bones will have to suffice. Yes…your bones will have to suffice."

"You intend to kill me, then?"

"No, no, deary…I'm going to feed you to my little birdies. They're so hungry, you see. My poor birdies…It's so hard to find food for them that isn't tainted with the Plague. Then, when their little tummies are nice and full, I'll take your bones and carve them into sparkly charms. I'll even cut a nice figure from them. But I have to wonder, deary…Why did you come here? What were you hoping to gain from your Granny?"

I did my best to glare in Granny's direction, choosing to remain silent.

Again, she laughed. "You Whaler folk…Always so stubborn, stubborn, stubborn! Very well. Have it your way, deary."

Suddenly, I felt my restraints slip away, and I fell out of the chair. Yet, my vision remained dark. _Not blindfolded. Poisoned?_ I quickly got to my feet, and I instinctively reached for my blade. For once, it was there. So I tore it free of its sheath, calming my tremulous breaths. I listened intently, waiting to hear Granny Rags move.

All I heard instead was that false transversal.

And something much, much more terrifying than a crazy old hag.

 _I almost hate to say this…but Kieron was not wrong. She really was going to murder us and steal our bones. So, if I cannot do this…Then I may as well kiss my life goodbye now, before it is too late._

Taking another deep breath, I centered myself. I began to call upon what little mana I had left. It was not enough to cast any of my abilities. Yet, I _hoped_ it would be enough for what I was going to attempt.

With my mana summoned, I grasped it and refused to let it go. My Arcane Bond began to protest in response. It felt as though the palm of my hand and the entirety of my forearm were being electrocuted. I ignored the uncomfortable sensation, and focused on merging my mana with my Arcane Bond as I searched for a thread, or a link. Something I could tether myself onto, similar to performing a long distance transversal.

 _I just need a target…_

"After spells, three times called," I murmured in Serkonan. "After gold dust, three times fall."

The cacophony I heard…It will haunt my dreams for the years to come. And I braced myself for what was coming. Granny Rags' little birdies were not ravens, nor crows. In fact, they were not birds at all. The sounds they made told me as much.

No…They were rats.

And I have heard the stories of what the plague-bearing rats can do to a person. How they could strip a corpse clean within less than a minute. So this is it…I have less than a minute to succeed, or else I become rat food.

I have no intention of dying that easily.

"After spells, three times called," I murmured again, louder this time. "After gold dust, three times fall."

I felt the rats scurry up my legs. I felt them inside of my clothes, on my skin, nibbling away at me as they began to engulf me. I had to do everything in my power not to scream, not to lose my concentration, as I suffered bite after bite of their sharp teeth. By the Outsider's eyes, it is so painful…

"After spells, three times called…After gold dust, three times fall!"

The rats were now on my arms. I attempted to shake them off, yet it only enraged them. Their nibbling turned into gnawing, as more and more of them encased me.

 _Will this spell have been worth it?_

Unable to stand any longer, I collapsed to the ground. I heard my blade clatter uselessly somewhere next to me. I searched for it desperately. Yet, I could not feel it under the innumerable rats. At that moment, I was thankful for the blindness. I did not want to know how many there truly were.

I inhaled sharply, as my Arcane Bond _hooked_ with what I was looking for. I have the thread. _I have the thread!_

"After spells, three times called!" I cried out. "After gold dust, three times fall!"

 _Outsider, get them off of me! Get them off of me! I do not want to die! I do not want to get the Plague, and bleed from the eyes, and…and…_

 _No. Shut up, Arissa. Stop panicking. Say it._

 _Say his name!_

"Daud, I call upon your will! Daud, I call upon your Mark!" I shook my head, preventing a rat from crawling into my mouth. "Daud, I call upon the thread that binds me to you! Hear me now! Find me! I summon thee! I summon thee! I summon thee!"

Now, I was trapped within the devouring swarm. I was bitten over, and over, and over again. _How badly will I be marred after today? Is my fate to become a Weeper?_ Yet, I would not allow them the satisfaction of getting me to scream.

I am a Whaler. I feel no pain; I do not scream.

I am a _Whaler_. I feel _no_ pain; I do _not_ scream.

I am a Whaler. I feel no pain; I do not scream…

…

…

…

 _Clink, clink, clink!_

What the Void!?

…

My throat immediately tightened, and it was becoming increasingly hard to breathe. Within mere seconds, I started to cough violently. My eyes burned something fierce. Yet, the rats had stopped gnawing at me.

Uh…actually…I think I am covered in their corpses right now…

And truth be told…I am just _barely_ avoiding throwing up…

Oh…by the Outsider's blood…I feel so sick…

 _This is pathetic…I am moaning as though I am fever-sick._

Through my coughing fit, I thought I heard the sound of a transversal. A true transversal. Moments later, I realized that I had.

Gloved hands were briskly sweeping the dead rats off of me.

Master Daud swore under his breath in Serkonan. _How bad must I appear, to have him swearing so?_ "Arissa, if stupidity was a crime, then I should have executed you for it a long time ago."

I opened my mouth to speak. Instead, Master Daud put his hand over my mouth.

"Don't talk," he said, and I felt him lift me up into his arms. "There will be plenty of time for that later. Now, let's get you home."

* * *

I sat on the edge of my bed, practically swaddled in a blanket. Mentor Rapha had cut away the remnants of my uniform – even after I told him I could take them off myself - and now I wore nothing except for a new pair of underclothes. The whole time, my face was flushed. Kieron refused to leave my side, and kept a reassuring hold on my hand; Mentor Rapha kept prodding me with medically gloved fingers, and the occasional pointed tool; and I knew Master Daud was glaring at the both of them.

In the end, despite my discomfiture, there was nothing I could do. Truth be told, this was not the most…embarrassing moment I have ever had, either. I have had worse, believe it or not. That is the hazard of everyone sleeping in a barracks, as well as sharing a washroom. Sometimes, you see things that you truly wish you could forget.

And I have unintentionally stumbled upon those moments more than once.

Yet, it is moments like these where I wonder if I could actually live in _civilized_ society. Any civilized society woman would not dare to be caught dead in front of the eyes of men, as I am now. Unless she is a whore, then…well…You know what, never mind. I do not quite know myself where I was trying to go with that…

"Well?" Master Daud inquired to Mentor Rapha. "What are the chances that she's going to contract the Rat Plague?"

Mentor Rapha hesitated.

"I need to know, Rapha. Is she going to contract the Plague?"

Mentor Rapha sighed. "I don't know, Master. Forgive me. She'll need to be kept under close supervision. The moment anyone sees blood coming from her eyes, or the staining of blood upon her cheeks, then we'll know. And she'll need to be put down immediately."

"Hey!" I growled. "I am right here, you bastard!"

Kieron squeezed my hand tighter, whispering in my ear, "It'll be okay, my dear Lady."

"I'm sorry, Arissa, but that's the harsh reality of the matter," Mentor Rapha replied. "It's possible that, from your prior elixir treatments, you may have some immunity to the Plague. However, I make no guarantees that you do. I'm not Sokolov; ergo I don't know the precise science behind the elixir formula.

"Master Daud, my recommendation is that we should resume giving her elixir treatments; beginning with a dose or two of Piero's Spiritual Remedy, to help her body restore its natural mana faster. I also advise that she be given plenty of fluids, and that she stays temporarily bedridden until her wounds are scabbed over. I have no desire to cauterize each and every bite mark; it would cause her unnecessary pain and scarring. As for her blindness…I'm sorry, Master. I suspect she has been dosed with some kind of toxin, or a combination of them, but I cannot safely conclude what the concoction may have been. Forgive me."

Master Daud stayed quiet for a few moments before he finally said, "Very well. See to it that she gets the elixir treatments she needs. It's fortunate that we've been isolated from the worst of the Plague. We should have a fair amount of the elixir stored away."

"Indeed we do, Master. I'll see to getting her treatments underway as soon as possible. Do you require anything more?"

"Yes. Both of you leave. I need to speak with Arissa, privately."

"As you command, Master," Mentor Rapha replied. "Come along, Kieron."

"I'll be back for you later, _amore mio,_ " Kieron murmured, letting go of my hand. "I promise."

My breathing began to quicken. I was scared to be alone with Master Daud. _Is the Outsider right? Am I intentionally blinding myself to the truth of my being? That I am like my Master, and am nothing more than a weapon?_

 _…_ _Yet, do I really desire to change my ways? And even if I did, is it not already too late for me? He did say that I started the machinery…whatever that means._

When the door at the far end of the room closed, I actually heard Master Daud sigh. Whether it was in frustration or relief, I could not tell. I was expecting to be castigated, for almost getting myself killed yet again.

Yet, my Master surprised me as he began to speak. His voice was much softer than I thought it would be.

"Arissa, what were you thinking?" he said, sitting down next to me. "Why, in the name of the Void itself, would you even consider going to that madwoman?"

I lowered my head. "I thought she would be able to help, Master…I was wrong…"

"What were you trying to accomplish?"

I hesitated.

"Tell me, Arissa."

"Yes, Master," I relented. "Kieron came up with this idea that, if we could bind the spirit of the woman who torments us, we could compel her to find the traitor in our ranks. But we needed to know the binding ritual, and…We were running out of options. I did not know where else to go, so I thought…I thought that maybe, we could get it from her, and…"

Master Daud suddenly grabbed me by the jaw. I froze in place, expecting him to snap my neck right then and there.

"Interesting," he muttered under his breath.

I tilted my head questioningly.

He repositioned my head. "How well can you follow my voice?"

"Relatively well, Master."

"Look straight at me, and don't blink."

I followed his instructions, and did my best not to blink. Though, it was hard. My eyes were still tearing from being hit directly with the canister of chokedust.

"Move your eyes side to side," he ordered.

"Like this?"

"Yes, exactly like that," he paused. "Now, look straight at me again."

I did so.

"Hmm…Rapha wasn't wrong. You were definitely hit with some kind of toxin."

"I…I was?" I paused. "Master, am I going to be blind forever?"

"I don't know. Perhaps you will. Perhaps you won't. If I knew exactly what kind of poison you were hit with, I could more easily tell you. But I don't know, so I can't tell you," Master Daud replied. "However, what I do know is that I got a basic idea of what you were given. So, I'll be able to create an antidote for you."

"Really?" I asked, hopeful.

"Yes. Though, I have to admit that I'm surprised at you, Arissa. You should have inherited at least _some_ of my resistance to certain toxins."

"Is it bad that I have not?"

"It depends on the situations you find yourself in. Though, it's something that we'll be able to work on, after your promotion."

"Wait…You still intend to promote me? You are not mad?"

"Arissa…if I could, I'd wring your fragile little neck until you either stop breathing or it snaps in half. But I have to accept the fact that you're young, and you're going to be prone to making mistakes. I made plenty of foolish decisions myself, when I was your age," he paused. "There's something about you that I can't quite figure out. You're a mystery to me."

I raised an eyebrow. "In what way, Master?"

"What you did today with your Arcane Bond. You're not very adept with your magic – not yet, at least – and yet you used a spell, of all things, to manipulate the Bond. The question I now find myself asking is how did you manage to do it?"

I contemplated my answer. _How did I think to do it? It was just a random thought…Right?_

"I…am uncertain, Master. I was bored, and…scared…so I started singing a lullaby. As I sang, I came up with this idea and…I used the lullaby as an incantation of sorts. The words just…came to me. I do not quite know how to explain it. I am just as surprised as you are, if you want me to be honest."

Master Daud stayed silent. _What is he thinking? What does he know that I do not?_

"Why do you ask, Master?" I dared to inquire.

"It doesn't matter for now," he said, dismissively. "Regardless, I'm impressed. You're alive now, because of what you did. So, I'm going to give you a chance at redemption. I'm going to give you the instructions to the binding ritual."

"You…you are, Master?"

"Yes. You'll have to learn the incantation and find the components on your own. But I trust that that shouldn't be too hard for you to handle."

"Master, if I may…?"

"You may."

"Why are you doing this?"

"I have my reasons. One of them is that I could care less about what happens to Mereedee, that Tyvian _suka_."

I blinked in surprise. "Master, you speak Tyvian?"

Master Daud laughed. "You could say that."

I thought about it for a few moments. "You only speak the swear words, do you not?"

"You're one to talk, Arissa. I recall your first Gristolian words being profanity of the highest degree."

"In my defense, Master…You should not have let Thomas try to help me learn the language…"

"In retrospect, perhaps not," he replied, gently placing his hand on my shoulder. "You need to rest. In the following days, you're barely going to have the opportunity to. And you'll want to be at full physical, mental, and magical strength when you go after Mereedee. She's going to put up a tough fight."

Master Daud stood up, and began to walk away.

"And, Arissa?"

I followed the sound of his voice, hopefully looking at him. "Yes, Master?"

"I know all about your little relationship with Kieron."

 _Oh no…_

"As long as your personal feelings don't get in the way of your work, I don't have a problem with it."

He then left the room without saying another word.

Wh-what?

No…No way…

There is no way that he…

Outsider's eyes, did he really just do that to me?

 _Unbelievable! He is almost as bad as the Outsider himself!_


	25. Rise Up, Young Sister

**_Chapter Twenty-Five_**

 ** _Rise Up, Young Sister_**

* * *

 _Oracle Natividad's Asylum for Natural Philosophical Research_

 _Research District, The City of Dunwall, Isle of Gristol_

 _Twenty-third Day, Month of Rain, 1836_

 ** __O_O_O__**

It was early in the evening, on the twenty-third day of the Month of Rain. In five days' time, the anniversary of Mereedee's death would be upon us. _And yet here I am, gallivanting with Kieron._ At long last, progress had been made. Master Daud did give me the ritual notes. I would be laying my eyes upon them for the first time later this evening.

We were waiting for Thomas to return from his scouting run with Lurk. Meanwhile, Mentors Rapha and Killian were hard at work with Master Daud, creating multiple doses of the antidote. The toxin that plagued my body was potent. It was refusing to leave my system. It may actually be the understatement of the century, to say that the two compounds were at war with each other.

The stresses of the past few days have been great, that I cannot deny. In my waking hours, I suffer unexplainable tremors and shaking hands. Sometimes I just lay as still as a corpse, unable to move because of the severity of my headaches. More than once, Mentor Rapha has offered me laudanum or opium. The next time he asks, I may just take him up on the offer.

Yet, all of this seems so small in comparison to what the war of antidote and toxin has done to my mind. It feels as though my mind is constantly clouded…like when you are tired, yet you know you are not allowed to rest. Because of that, your judgment becomes questionable. You start to see things, hear things, that are not there.

I thought staying up all night was challenging.

Again, I have been proven wrong.

The worst part of it all is knowing that I am standing on the precipice of gaining what I have long since desired. Yet, I am also standing on the very precipice of losing it all. All because of a foolish lapse in my judgment.

In the end, I only have myself to blame. I never should have trusted that old crone, Granny Rags.

Every time that I think something is bad, something else proves to be worse. In this case, I thought that having to drink elixir was bad. Do you know what it tastes like? Trust me; you do not want to find out. Sokolov's elixir tastes like rotting whale meat. The Spiritual Remedy is…tolerable. It strangely tastes of a berry medley.

The antidote I receive has to be injected into my bloodstream. Four-to-five times a day – and I truly wish I was exaggerating that number – I find myself at the end of a needle, guided by Mentor Rapha's hand.

 _It is a good thing that I am not afraid of needles. Not entirely, anyways…_

Despite all this chaos, my Novice brothers came to see me. It was the first time I had seen them in…weeks, which is scary considering the fact that we live in the same building. Akila, Julian and Rinaldo were giving me a hard time, convinced that during my time away from the Novices, I married an Overseer. That the reason I am so bloodied, so bruised, is because of an abusive husband's hand. They were not too happy with my retort. Needless to say, it involved kitchen knives, manhood, and hagfish.

Let that image sink into your head.

Anatole stood there the whole while, a look of absolute disgust on his face. Though, that was typical of him. He even charmingly said that I looked like a Plague victim, and that I belonged in a wagon being carted off to Outsider only knows where. In retaliation, I gave him a hug, telling him how much I had missed him too. I even had the courtesy to ask how his lover was doing. He scowled at me in response, as he pushed me away. I figured they had broken up.

And here I thought it was impossible to be heartbroken…by one's own hand.

What? I warned you that I have unintentionally walked in on some things I would rather forget. That…was definitely one of them.

Reflecting on it now, I could not help but sigh. I do not think I look like an abused housewife. Do I? After all, I am covered in bite marks, both scabbed and scabbing; I am clothed in a dirtied white gown; and my upper arms, as well as my thighs, are dotted with dark purple bruises.

In the end, I suppose I should not complain too much. I have regained some sight, at the very least. Not a lot, mind you, but…well…I guess it must be progress, since I can actually see my hands in front of my face. And I have not yet contracted the Plague, so there is that, as well…

With Thomas absent, and the Mentors still hard at work with our Master, Kieron had decided to steal me away. We were hiding in a sunroom, just off the Trepanation Wing. He had surprised me, when he told me that he wanted me to sit on his lap, and watch the sunset with him. So I did. The whole while, our arms were wrapped around each other. Slowly, I had nestled myself into his embrace. I had let my guard down.

And that is something I _rarely_ do.

I should mention this now. Do you recall when I said that Kieron is as tall as Master Daud? Well, I am exactly one foot, three inches _shorter_ than the man I am courting. In fact, I am the smallest Whaler out of the entire lot of us. Lurk actually towers over me. So, of course I was joyful to let my guard down, even if it was just this once. I was finally able to be on the same level as the man that I…that I love, with all of my darkened heart.

"You know, I still wonder how I ended up with you," Kieron said, caressing my cheek. "I thought for sure my poetry would make you commit suicide."

"You are kidding, right? There is no way that something like poetry can make a person decide to take their own life."

"I don't know about that, my dear Lady. I have heard rumors. Whether or not they are true, I don't know. All I know is that I love you, and I am so proud of you for making it this far."

"Why?" I questioned. "I mean…I love you too and all, but…Why are you proud of me? I have not done anything that is worth praising."

"On the contrary, you have. Despite all the obstacles you've faced, you have yet to give up. That counts for something, especially in Dunwall."

I contemplated his words. _I…suppose he is right._

"Kieron?"

"Hmm?"

"I…need to ask you something. It is…important."

"What troubles you, my dear Lady?"

"When we…" I hesitated. "When I help Master Daud kill the Empress…will you think of me any less?"

"Should I? I'm not happy about it, but at the end of the day, we are assassins. We often don't get a choice in who our next contract is. Though, I won't deny that I wonder about your motivations for going through with it," he replied. "Are you doing it because of your loyalty to Daud, or are you doing it because his magic is impelling you to obey his commands?"

"I don't know anymore, Kieron," I said in Serkonan, my voice barely above a whisper. "It still feels as though I exist in a place of fog. But then I remember what I did with the lullaby. And then I remember the Outsider's words…"

"The Outsider spoke to you again?" he asked, also in Serkonan.

"Yes."

"Fascinating…What did he say?"

"That I'm not as useless as I make myself out to be…That I am too blind to realize so many things…" I paused. "Kieron…who am I? Am I still the girl that I once was? Or have I become nothing more than a mirror of our Master? And if I have, then…"

Kieron shrugged. "Who do you want to be?"

"Something that I know I'm not."

"And that is…?"

"A master. An artist. An inventor. A…protector."

"A protector? A protector of what?"

"My family."

Kieron narrowed his eyes. "What are you hiding? You wouldn't have brought this up if you weren't troubled by something. What else did he tell you, Arissa?"

 _I will not keep secrets from him…Kieron deserves to know, especially for the kindness he has always shown me…_

"The Outsider said that my fate is intertwined with Daud's…That I will succeed where he has failed. Yet, he has also given me a mystery of my own; one that I don't know how to solve, Kieron. The words he spoke…they're still etched vividly into my mind. Can I tell you the story? Maybe you'll see something in it that I haven't yet."

Kieron nodded, and I proceeded to tell him the story of the powerful man and his three daughters; the mystery, the gift, and the curse. The whole while, Kieron's eyes kept peering into mine. He seemed to be listening quite intently.

 _So he is smarter than he lets on. He is very wise, indeed, hiding that fact. Still, it is nonetheless intriguing that he plays dim. The question is…why?_

"…Then he posed to me if I find it laughable or contemptible that innumerous people will, or have, their lives altered because of the man's inability to sate his lust," I finished. "My question to you, my love, is what do you find it to be?"

Kieron tapped his fingers against my shoulder, lost in thought. After a few agonizingly long moments, he spoke.

"I find it contemptible. Yet, I cannot help but wonder who these three bastards are, or how they are of any consequence to us. We may just have to wait it out, I'm sorry to say."

"No, I…agree with you. I just hope…I just hope I'm making the right decision, in belaying the solving of this mystery. Whenever I think about this, I imagine lives – our lives – being at stake, and…I hate it, Kieron. I've only killed twice, and now I can't be certain if I should feel anything for the lives I so willingly took.

"The Outsider said that I consigned myself to be our Master's weapon. That I never once considered sparing the lives of the people who held me captive. And he's right. I didn't. I wanted them to die, and I killed them. I killed a girl who didn't even deserve to die. And then Granny Rags also said that I…that I'm evil, and that the Outsider told her as much."

"You're really going to believe the words of an old madwoman, who murders people for their bones?"

"No…Yet, what if there is some credence to her words, Kieron? What if I really am nothing more than those things?"

Kieron kissed my forehead, and he began to gently stroke my head with his hand. "Then I'll still love you, Arissa, no matter what kind of person you turn out to be. You just have to promise me one thing."

"And that is…?"

"That you won't mutilate my manhood with a kitchen knife, and that you won't murder me in my sleep…Arissa, are you crying?"

He touched beneath my eyes, his fingers coming away glistening. He stared at me for a long time, as if at a loss for words. Then, he laid my head down on his chest, tightening his embrace.

"You're not like Daud at all," he said softly. "There's still a shred, however small, of the old Arissa left in you…"

He was right.

I was quietly weeping. _He sounds so certain of those words. How can he be?_

"Daud doesn't feel empathy," Kieron continued, as if he had heard my thoughts. "And if he does, then he has an odd way of showing it. But I truly believe that one day, when the opportunity arises, you'll be a great leader. There are those who are already loyal to you, Arissa. There are also those who are loyal to Lurk.

"Lurk is too…egotistical to be a proper leader. She will only care about herself and save her own life, if we were ever to be endangered. If our options dwindled down to nothing more than rebellion, then I believe that your supporters could easily overpower hers. You would be assuming control within the same day she is ousted, and there would be nothing she could do to stop it from happening."

"Are you just saying this to make me feel better, Kieron?"

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not," he smiled. "Is it working?"

"Actually…Yes…"

Kieron lifted my head up, kissing me fervently. Time seemed to last forever in that moment. Perhaps it did. I only knew that I did not want him to stop. I never did. And for some reason, I am always sad when he does.

"Why are you so fascinated with rebellions, Kieron?" I asked him, when he pulled away.

He grinned. "What is life without a little bit of danger?"

I found myself giggling, a smile threatening my lips.

"Now, there's the woman I fell in love with."

He kissed me again, and I may as well have melted into him this time. He had me wrapped around his fingers. And one day, I knew he would be exploiting my infatuation with him. Yet, I did not realize until the moment he had snatched my hand away that I had been tracing his chest with my fingers.

"Naughty girl, exploring like that," he feigned anger. "Did I say you could?"

"Did I say you could steal my hand?" I retorted, smiling. "I thought I was _your_ Empress. And if that is the case, then…you'll just have to be my servant, now won't you?"

Much to my astonishment, Kieron blushed. I gazed at him for a long, long time. This is easily one of the most incredible things I have ever seen. I had somehow managed to beat him at his own game…whatever it was.

"It seems that I have erred greatly in naming you Empress."

I patted him on the cheek. "Indeed you did. You'll have erred more, when I become Master."

"Mistress," he corrected. "Mistress Arissa."

We both burst out laughing.

"That…sounds so much better than Lady," I said.

"It does have a nice ring to it, doesn't it? But you're aware that you'll have to earn the title?"

I rolled my eyes. _Of course I know I have to earn it. I am not yet the leader of the Whalers._

"You're also aware how greatly _you've_ erred?"

"In what way?" I questioned.

"You can't control me yet…You're only the Novice, and I, your loving commander."

"Kieron…Shut up."

"As you wish," he replied, and began kissing my neck.

I inhaled sharply, taken by surprise at how much I loved this simple act.

Damn it…He has a lot more control over me than I originally thought he did.

 _Should I allow him to retain his control over me?_

 _Oh, forget it. He can keep it, for now._

 _Outsider's eyes, love is complicated._


	26. When One Door Closes, Another Opens

**_Chapter Twenty-Six_**

 ** _When One Door Closes, Another Opens_**

* * *

I stared out the windows of the sunroom, glancing up at the moon above. Judging from its position, I surmised that it was just past midnight. So, it is now the twenty-fourth day of the Month of Rain. It is amazing, is it not? How fast time seems to fly by. It still feels as though the Month of Earth were only yesterday.

Mentor Rapha and Thomas should have been here hours ago. Yet, neither one of them had come to find Kieron and I. Perhaps it was for the better that this happened. Kieron had remained with me for the entirety of the evening. Occasionally he would disappear, only to reappear with food or drink. Not at my request, either. He was doing these acts of his own accord.

I sighed, crossed my arms over my chest, and shook my head.

I felt…odd, for a lack of a better way to describe it. The small things Kieron did to me had an astounding effect on my body. Things that I had never felt, or seen happen, before. It was as though I was his puppet. And for some unbeknownst reason, I did not entirely hate it. For some other unbeknownst reason, I wanted to do the same small torments to him.

Is that all that love is, a dance between two individuals, finding innumerable ways to torment each other into an indescribable bliss? That is how I have heard my eldest brothers describe their encounters at the Golden Cat. Though, I think that is a vastly _different_ kind of encounter, than what Kieron and I have been doing. So, if love is not that…then is it just a dance to make one's body flushed for no reason?

Am I just missing the point entirely? I would ask for guidance from my eldest brothers, yet I fear their endless slew of awkward questions…most likely to be followed by terrifying descriptions of their own encounters. And I do not think you love a whore the same way that you love a person you are courting.

 _Dare I even ask my only parental figure, Master Daud, for guidance? Has he ever been in love with someone? No, I doubt it. My instincts tell me that he has never been interested in love. And if that is true, then perhaps it was a wise decision on his part._

 _If something were to happen to Kieron, and I unable to stop it, would I ever be able to forgive myself if he got hurt…or worse, died?_

I sighed again. I should not be thinking about any of this right now. I should be focused on my assignment.

"Kieron," I said, turning around to face him. He was still sitting on the sofa, reading a book he had brought back with him. "You have not seen Mentor Rapha or Thomas around, have you?"

"I'm sure that, wherever they are, they are fine," he replied, not looking up from his book.

"What are you reading?"

"The Seven Strictures."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why? They are quite boring. Not to mention the fact that we have already broken each one a hundred times over."

Kieron tapped his finger against his Arcane Bond. "I do quite enjoy having supernatural abilities. Yet, I often wish that my Bond had appeared somewhere _other_ than my face."

"So you say that you suffered an industrial accident. Or perhaps wear a half-mask?"

He shrugged. "I tend to utilize the half-mask, along with the clothes of a minor noble. That seems to keep curious bystanders away from me. You got off lucky, being able to hide your Bond underneath a sleeve and a glove."

"Would you laugh if I said that I am still not used to looking at it?"

Kieron laughed, setting his book down next to him. "Don't worry. It takes everyone a while to get used to it. But eventually, it becomes a part of who you are."

"It seems as though some of us embrace it more than others."

"And some of us get it, while others don't," he paused. "You look as though you are about to collapse from exhaustion, _amore mio_."

"Do I?" I yawned.

"No one is going to blame you, if you wanted to spend the rest of the night sleeping."

"For once, Kieron…I am not going to argue with you."

He glanced at me, suspiciously. "Truly? Hmm. Does it seem colder in here to you? I fear that the Void may have just frozen over."

"This antidote is kicking my ass, Kieron. I know you can see that. And I am doing everything in my power to fight through this, yet I…I cannot. Right now, I want nothing more than to curl up like a kitten and sleep for an eternity."

Kieron stood up and made his way over to me. He wrapped his arms around my waist. "It pains me that you have to suffer so. But just as your vision is returning, so too shall your strength. Shall I whisk you off to bed, then?"

I shook my head. "I was considering spending the night in here. I just…need some time away from the others, for a little while."

"Is it because of what happened this morning, with the Novices?"

"Not exactly. Yet…do I really look like an abused housewife?"

Kieron ran his hand through my hair. "No. You look as beautiful as the moon in the sky above."

"Please tell me that is not the title of your next poem."

He grinned. "It just might be."

"I thought you said you hated poetry?"

"I did. But then I found out that it can kill people, and now I am interested in it again."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "You…are something else entirely. Do you know that?"

"Just you wait, Arissa. One day, I will be a famous poet," he said. "Now, don't go anywhere. I will return in a few moments."

He suddenly transversed away.

"Outsider's blood," I muttered, sitting down on the sofa. "He'd better not come back with a poem…"

* * *

Kieron transversed back into the room, several pillows in his grasp and a few blankets draped over his shoulders. I stared at him blankly. I have a feeling, were it not for the transversal, he would have been unable to carry all of that. So, I stood up to help him. Instead, he tossed the pillows at me, and I ended up falling back onto the sofa.

"Oh come on," I groaned. "Is that really how you want to play this, Kieron?"

In response, he threw the blankets down on top of me, burying me underneath their weight.

"I'm sorry, my Lady," he replied. "Did you say something?"

"Yes, I did! I said that, as your Empress, I demand that you let me go. At once!"

"Okay. Then as your Commander, I am denying your demand, and doing as I please."

"Empress trumps Commander, Kieron."

"Since when?"

I transversed onto my feet, playfully glaring at him. "Since always."

Kieron rolled his eyes, reached into his coat, and pulled out a journal. He offered it to me.

"I crossed paths with Thomas. He said to tell you that he apologizes for his lateness, but an urgent matter came up. I will need to assist him with it. He also told me that he found this while he was out, and he wanted you to have it. All of the pages are blank, so he thought you might enjoy having something to draw or write in."

I took the journal from his hands, yet I looked up at Kieron, worriedly. "I will thank him for this, the next time I see him. Yet, an urgent matter came up…that you need to go help him with? That sounds…very concerning."

Kieron placed his hands down on my shoulders. "Arissa, please take my advice. These are, most likely, your final days of being a Novice. Enjoy them while they last. Yes, you will gain new freedoms, but you will also gain new responsibilities. So for now, do not concern yourself with the affairs of the Masters. Rest, and be ready for what's to come. And if you can, be wary of your dreams. Or…I don't know…try to get yourself summoned into the Void or something. Perhaps the Outsider can protect you from Mereedee."

"Do you think she will come after us?"

"I don't know. I just want you to be prepared, just in case."

I nodded in response, sitting back down on the sofa.

I wanted to argue with him. I really did. Yet in the end, I did not. Kieron was right. When I become a Master, I will be faced with many new things that I do not have to presently deal with. So, for the moment, I will need to focus on my own duties, and my assignment. Whatever the matter is, I am sure that my eldest brothers can handle it.

"Will you be okay here, by yourself?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied firmly.

Without saying a word, Kieron transversed away again. A few, long moments later, he returned with an equipment box. He set it down on the floor, next to my feet.

I looked at him questioningly. Then, I set the journal down on my lap and opened the box. Inside was all of my equipment, including my Novice's uniform.

"Worried about me, Kieron?" I asked him.

"Always," he replied. "But I know you can handle yourself. Still, it is better to be over-prepared than under-prepared, no?"

I took my blade out of the box, holding it up to the candlelight. I watched intently, as its razor sharp edges glimmered in the dull light.

"True," I answered. "Thank you, Kieron."

He pressed a kiss against my lips, caressing my cheek.

I gently placed my hand on top of his, and kissed him back.

"Sleep well, my Empress," he bowed mockingly.

"Good luck with…whatever it is you are heading off to do," I told him.

He smiled, then transversed away.

I set my blade down on top of the equipment box, set the journal down inside of it, and went about making my makeshift bed. I slept in a peculiar way. My bed was often nicknamed the Carrot Nest, much to my displeasure. _I still do not understand how that name makes any sense. Carrot Nest? Rabbit Hole might have made sense, but…Seriously?_ What can I say, though? I can withstand the cold during the day, yet at night, I like curling up into a ball and burying myself under pillows and a blanket. And yes, I even sleep with my blade next to me.

Any wise assassin does.

I brushed my hair out of my eyes, and adjusted my gown. Then, I lazily transversed myself under the covers and plopped my head down on the pillow. I tapped into my mana, and used my tethering to summon my blade to my hand. Absently, I began to twirl it.

 _To think…I have taken two lives already, with a blade that was not my own. This blade has never tasted blood before. I need to mend that. I need to kill again. Soon, perhaps?_

 _Outsider's eyes…I just said that I_ need _to kill again._

I sighed, stowed my blade underneath my pillows, and blew out the candles on the table behind me. In a mere handful of days, I will be facing the biggest challenge of my young life to date. And I cannot help but wonder…

Will I be ready to face it?

Will I actually succeed, where my Master had failed? _The Outsider seems to think so._

In any case, it is a question that I will soon have an answer for.


	27. Reflections and Revelations

**_Chapter Twenty-Seven_**

 ** _Reflections and Revelations_**

* * *

Rain steadily pitter-pattered against the windows of the sunroom. Thunder boomed somewhere in the distance, and lightning cracked nearby. Throughout the night, the small room kept growing colder, and colder still. Despite this, I still found peace in the moments of solitude I had. I was very grateful for every second of it. Contrary to how I must be perceived, I do not always enjoy sleeping in a barracks.

But I have learned some very useful things from being in that kind of environment. One of which is being a light sleeper. The second of which is being mentally and verbally quick on my feet. You would be surprised at how well these skills have aided me over the years.

Yet, tonight I was indulging myself in actual sleep. When all the candles had finally burned out, and I drifted off to sleep, I kept my guard down. I did not think I would need to be alert. So far, my dreams had not been haunted by the Outsider. Instead, they were being haunted by images of being married, and giving birth to two sets of twins.

Ugh…I cannot bear that thought. I do not exactly have…many…more realistically, _any_ , female friends, but…This possible reality seems very tiring, stressful, and also painful. It also looks as though it would require many sacrifices. And at this point in my life, I am uncertain that I desire to make those sacrifices. _Is this why Master Daud has never taken a wife? Does he regret not doing so?_

Something cold brushed against my cheek, and I flinched. Though, I did not stir.

" _I know your name,_ " a voice croaked in my ear.

My eyes snapped open, as I was jolted from my slumber. My eyes were darting rapidly from left to right, scanning the room for any immediate threats. Yet, something was terribly wrong.

There was no one in the room with me.

 _This is why I should not have let my guard down. Damn it, I should have known better._

As I stood up, I grabbed my blade from underneath the pillows. It was unnaturally dark in the sunroom, and my eyes were having trouble adjusting to it. I grunted in annoyance. I needed a light source, and there was no possible way for me to relight any of the candles. Their wicks were nothing more than ash, now melded into the wax. Could my Arcane Bond possibly provide me with light? I wonder…

Taking a deep breath, I summoned my mana, and held it. My Arcane Bond began to glow softly, its light a peculiar mixture of greens, blues, and yellows. Yet, I knew that I would not be able to maintain this light for long. My arm was already beginning to burn.

Gripping my blade tighter, I cautiously made my way out of the sunroom. The whole while, I felt my body beginning to tense. The hairs on the back of my neck were beginning to stand. Nothing about this was right…or natural. Usually when bad things happen to me, my blade is nowhere to be seen. Yet, it was right where I left it. So am I still dreaming? Has the Outsider dragged me into the Void once more? Or am I really awake, and am just too tired to realize it?

There is a cloud of energy in the air. Everything around me is beginning to grow far too silent for my liking. And I am getting dizzy. If I were in the Void, I would not have this feeling. The Outsider does not make you sick. Is something siphoning strength from me? _I suppose I should find out._

I released my mana. As I did so, a bloodcurdling scream pierced the silence. I spun around sharply, the fingers of my free hand curling into something resembling a claw. Master Daud will be displeased with me, when he finds out that I have not been clipping my nails. Yet, I have witnessed many occasions where one's nails can inflict great damage. Whatever creature made that scream, it was unearthly. Having an extra weapon seemed like a _great_ idea at that moment.

I just sincerely hope it does not come down to me needing to use it.

With a basic idea of where I was going, I continued making my way down the narrow hallway. Then, I heard the scream again. It was more distinct this time. A woman, or a child, perhaps? I cannot quite discern it. However, the further down the hallway I went, the colder it became. I decided to summon my mana again, holding it at the ready to perform a transversal. I could see my own breath in the cold. It seemed as though I had no choice but to round the corner.

So I did.

And I swore in Serkonan.

She appeared before me; a woman clad in a tattered floor-length gown. Her skin was pallid, and her coal colored hair was nothing more than sparse clumps. There was a hole in her head, leaking some kind of…fluid. Her eyes were nothing more than empty sockets, and she was drenched in a combination of blood and algae. Some wounds on her body were still oozing.

I should have been afraid of her wretched appearance. Yet, I was not. All I could think about was if this was the best she had to throw at me.

"Come for me at last have you, Mereedee?" I said, my voice darkening.

Mereedee flashed me a malevolent smirk, as she prowled towards me. I held my ground, shifting my weight into a combat stance, and keeping my eyes locked on her. Now I knew this was not the Void, nor my reality. This was a dream, which meant that no one would be able to protect me from her wrath, if she decided to unleash it upon me. Surely she would. I had no doubts that she knew what I intended to do to her in the coming days.

Most likely, she was just as furious at me, as I was at her.

" _I know your name,_ " she said in a hoarse voice, inching ever closer towards me.

"Everyone knows my name," I replied, feinting with my blade to keep her at bay. "Afraid of me, Mereedee? You should be. I am more powerful than you will ever be. And I am _alive._ "

She laughed, " _Imogen_."

Uh…did I once say that the sound of evil was potentially three-fold? I have changed my mind. It is most definitely four-fold. Is that even real? You know what…Right now, it does not matter.

"Who is Imogen?" I demanded.

She reached out to touch me, with a slim-coated hand. " _Imogen._ "

"Who _is_ Imogen?"

Mereedee howled, and rushed towards me.

Without even contemplating my movement, I thrust forward. She impaled herself on my blade. She made no sound. It was as though she did not care. Her only concern was touching me. And I will not lie for a moment. It was a harrowing experiencing, having only mere inches separating us.

" _Who is Imogen!?_ " I growled. "Answer me, Mereedee! I am not like the others. It will take a lot more than drowning me, to get me to stand down!"

What happened next, I…Honestly, I do not know what to think of it. I have never, in the entirety of my life, seen someone do this before. She literally _walked_ up the length of my blade, until we were within arm's reach of each other.

Her eyeless sockets leaked a sordid, dark fluid. Again, she laughed and said, " _You_."

She touched my forehead with the tips of her fingers. I screamed, falling onto my knees. She firmly grasped my hair in her hand, yanking my head back.

My blade was still impaled in her gut.

" _You will not control me, foolish girl,_ " she pulled my hair tighter. " _But I shall control you._ "

A shock coursed through my body, and I screamed again. I fell backwards.

And I kept on falling, falling, falling…

* * *

I landed, hard.

At first, I thought I was dead. It took me a moment to realize that, to die in one's own head, is physically impossible. _Or rather, it should be._ So, I knew I had to stand up. It took a tremendous effort, but I was able to.

I was in yet another small room. Except the first thing that hit me was how wet, how sticky, the air was. _Humidity?_ The next thing that struck me was the intense heat. Then, I heard the fierce howl of the winds, and the creaking of the walls…The odd popping sounds that the windows make.

 _Damn me…This is not Dunwall._

 _This is Karnaca…_

I carefully studied my surroundings. The windows could not be opened, for they required a key; I could see the lock from where I was standing. There was also a closet, covered by a white screen. In the entirety of the room, there was only one door. It was effectively the only way in and out.

A young girl was huddled behind the white screen, her knees pulled up to her chest. She was covered in bruises, yellow and purple. Patches of her incredulously filthy skin were outright missing. Some of her badly knotted hair spilled down to the floor. Some of it was at her shoulders, or absent altogether.

She was a pitiful, sickly little thing, whose stomach I could hear growling. _Outsider's eyes, I can even see the bones beneath her flesh._ And she wept, like there was no tomorrow.

"After spells, three times called," she shakily sang. "After gold dust, three times fall. Come, maiden; mistress, mouse, and hen. Come fisher, farmer; frog and wren…"

I made my way over to her, kneeling down before her. I held out my hand, hoping she would take it. She coughed violently, shivering and moaning as though she were fever-sick. I waved my hand in front of her face. It was to no avail. She could not see me.

I touched my hand to her face instead. This time, she looked up at me.

"Outram? Is that you?" she whispered.

As I gazed into the girl's eyes, I had to swallow a lump in my throat. Tears were threatening my eyes. It was all beginning to make sense now…Outsider's eyes, how it was beginning to make sense…

The child was far from an ordinary girl.

Her hair was the color of copper.

Her skin made her look like a walking corpse.

Her eyes were indigo.

It felt as though I had just been hit by a railcar. The sudden remembrance of this small segment of my past…Was it supposed to happen this way? I can see it so clearly, now…

"Unknown day, Month of Clans, the year of 1829," I whispered. "Tick tock, tick tock, goes the clock…until the moment it chimes…"

"What did I do, to make Mommy hate me so much? Outram, if you're listening, please tell me why Mommy hates me…I promise to be good. You believe me, don't you, Outram? Don't you?"

 _Is this how Mereedee wants to torment me? By showing me the past I wanted to seek? At this moment, I am nothing more than a specter inside of my own memory. But who is Outram? An imaginary friend? Me talking to myself? Perhaps even a not-so-imaginary friend?_

 _Outsider's eyes, my head hurts…_

"Mommy said that we're forced to live in the Batista District because Daddy did a very bad thing…But I miss being in Cyria Gardens…It was such a nice apartment, and the Royal Conservatory is so pretty…" the girl rocked herself back and forth. "She said that we should be living in the Palace District now, and that I should have been friends with Duke Abele's sons! But now I can't, because of Daddy…"

"And now Mother has to use me, to do terrible things to the Father I never knew," I found myself finishing, "because my blood is special…"

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my breathing. Cyria Gardens was an expensive place. Not to mention the Palace District. So, does that mean that I am nobility? Or, at the very least, my family had wealth? _This is but a single fragment of my past. I need to see more!_

Suddenly, the door to the small room burst open. The woman that entered was tall, and smelled of roses. Yet, beyond that, I could not seem to conjure an image of her. My Mother was still beyond my reach.

She crossed the distance of the room unnaturally quick. I watched helplessly, as the younger version of myself shrieked, desperately trying to get away from the monster before her.

"Imogen Emmeline Kalondara!" she bellowed, grabbing the child firmly by the wrist, backhanding her. "You useless girl! What have you done!?"

"I didn't do anything, Mommy!" Imogen cried.

"You killed him!" She…she hit her again. "Your Father is dead because of you!"

"I didn't mean to do it, Mommy!"

She took Imogen by the wrist, dragging her across the floor. She forced her to wear an outfit that only someone with twisted perversions would dare to make a young girl wear. These clothes were most often seen in Cullero, more so than Karnaca.

"Mommy, please!" Imogen begged. "I'll be good! I promise, I'll be good! I promise! I promise!"

My Mother gave the girl another harsh slap. "Shut your mouth, Imogen. I'm sick of your attitude. And today, I'm finally doing something about it."

She beat her into unconsciousness.

I touched my fingers to my eyes. I have never cried like this before. I am…sad, yes. But it is more than that. I am angry.

 _You are not destroying me, Mereedee. You are infuriating, empowering me. I am no longer a scared child. I am a Whaler now. I do not fear you, or the echoes of my past._

 _You erred. I know how this story ends._

 _And this is_ my _head!_

* * *

For weeks, my Mother had been trying to sell me to the highest bidder. For weeks, she would drag me down to the Campo Seta Dockyards, and tie me to a dumpster. I would thrash about, trying in vain to break free of the ropes that held me.

It was well into the Month of Songs, and it was an unusually hot day in Karnaca for this time of year. As had been the routine, I was tied to the dumpster across the street from a black market shop, where black magic practitioners purchased their necessities, or stole pieces of bone from the fresh catches that came to our shores.

Did you know that children are excellent for black magic? It is actually a proven fact by Natural Philosophers. Do you think I jest? Mentor Rapha spoke of Anton Sokolov's sick practices during the Fugue Feast. My Mentor saw unspeakable things. He cannot forget them…or forgive them.

A young man approached my Mother. He was approximately six-foot-four in height. He was no dockworker, for he did not possess their bulging muscles. His dark hair was cropped short, and there was a long scar going down the right side of his face. His eyes were steely-blue, an intimidating gaze set against dusky skin. And on his hip, he carried a simplistic blade.

My Mother gave the man a courtly smile, and they began to converse in a language I did not understand at the time. The only word I was able to understand was "Crescence." Her name – or nickname – perhaps?

"Mommy?" Imogen whispered so quietly, you would have had to strain to hear her.

Crescence hit her again, and kept talking to the man in that foreign tongue. The tongue, for the record, was Gristolian. I could actually translate the entire conversation now. Yet, I do not want to. Not because of fear, no…

I am afraid of what I will be capable of, when my anger reaches its peak.

Eventually, the man gave Crescence a hefty bag of coin. She took it, untied Imogen, and handed her over to the man. He made sure she was behind him, right before he stabbed my Mother in the abdomen.

It was such a swift movement. Even now, it was still so breathtaking to watch. There was naught but a split second from the man unsheathing the blade, to when he stabbed my Mother with it. Watching her death shudders, I can recall how much I enjoyed them. Watching as her life ebbed away before my eyes.

I recall how the man did nothing to stop me from witnessing her death. Even as a child, my curiosity got the better of me. A _normal_ child should have been affright, watching their parent die before them. Yet, I was not. I was…relieved, because I knew that I was finally free of that monster that called herself my mother.

But I had been quickly thrust into the hands of another.

Or so I had first thought at the time.

The man leaned down to Imogen, putting his calloused hands on her shoulders. He looked directly into her indigo eyes. He was searching for something. Anything. He saw something that interested him, and he was pursuing it.

"This woman…" he said, his gravelly voice trying to sound gentle. "Did she hurt you?"

Imogen nodded, holding back her tears.

"How old are you?"

"Ten."

The man whistled. "You're ten years old…and you're dead inside, aren't you? Kid, how did you end up with this woman? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," she replied bluntly.

"Okay…" the man said, lost for a reply. "Do you at least have someone who's willing to take care of you?"

"No."

"A place to hide?"

"No."

The man fell silent, continuing to stare into those indigo eyes. "Well…I'm not about to leave a ten year old kid out on the streets by herself. What would you say to me taking care of you?"

Imogen shrugged. "What's your name?"

"Daud."

Imogen tilted her head. "Just Daud?"

"Just Daud."

"Mister Daud," she said, politely, "do you kill lots of people?"

"Why are you asking me that, kid?"

"Why not? You killed her. You didn't have to…So, do you kill people to help other people? Or do you do it because it's fun?"

He sighed. "I kill whoever I'm paid to kill, kid. I'm an assassin."

Imogen grinned. "Oh…So you kill for both reasons… _and_ get paid to do it!?"

"Uh…not in the way you're thinking, no."

"Oh…okay…Will you teach me to be like you anyway, Mister Daud? Please?"

Daud stood up, and ran a hand through his hair. "Well…if you really want to be an assassin, then I don't see the harm in teaching you to be one. But it won't be easy, kid. There will be rules. Training. And a lot of pain."

"Pain means nothing to me anymore."

"If you say so. First things first, we need to get you cleaned up, and properly clothed and fed. You're not going to be accomplishing anything, being all skin and bone," he replied. "You asked my name, so it's only fair I ask for yours. Who are you?"

It was in that moment, I changed my life forever.

I lied to Master Daud, when I was a little girl.

I told him that I was not given a name, that my parents did not love me enough to give me one. And the thing is? He believed every second of it. That day, Imogen Emmeline Kalondara died…

And Arissa Gwethalyn Daurana was born.

* * *

My eyes snapped open. My breathing was heavy, and I was uncertain of where I was. _Am I still in my dreams, under Mereedee's influence? Or am I finally back in reality?_ Looking about the room, I slowly came to the realization that I was, indeed, no longer trapped in my own head. The only thing that had changed was that it was now morning. The sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon.

"Outsider's eyes, what a night," I breathed, plopping my head back down on the pillow. "I think I might finally try alcohol today…Or opium…"

I rubbed my eyes. As much as I had slept, the experience had…drained me somehow. So, I decided to indulge myself with a few minutes more of rest. I figured I had some time, before someone came searching for me.

I closed my eyes, and began to drift off back to sleep…

Then, I heard the floorboards creak. Within seconds, I felt the touch of cold, razor-sharp metal at my throat. I opened my eyes in annoyance.

There was a Novice standing over me. His blade was pressed deeply into my throat. So deeply, in fact, that if I so much as swallowed, it would be cut.

"Is this supposed to be some kind of a joke?" I asked, deadpan. "Because I do not find it very funny."

"Oh, but I do," the muffled voice replied. "May you finally be cleansed of your heresy, _sister."_

Then, the blade moved.


	28. Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

**_Chapter Twenty-Eight_**

 ** _Mirror, Mirror on the Wall_**

* * *

I was never like the women of high society.

They grew up with dolls and tea parties. I grew up with weapons and martial arts. They would be obsessed with finding the right man to marry, before they were considered a spinster by societal standards. I would be obsessed with finding the right man to kill, before I was considered a failure by my mentors. They would fuss over the latest fashion trends. I fuss over keeping my identity a secret…making sure my chest appears as flat as a man's under my brigade vest, and keeping my hair and nails clipped to what Master Daud considered a "reasonable length."

I never knew my Father. I was always led to believe that he walked out on my Mother and I, after I was born. But I did know my Mother, and she had slowly drifted into insanity over the years. Or so that is how I am interpreting it now. Regardless of the past, everything did change the day that Master Daud came into my life. Because of him, I became something more, something greater, than myself.

And while I may never know what to properly call him, I can say with certainty that he was always there for me, especially when I needed him most. He never gave up on me, despite the countless times I almost gave up on myself. He is the father I never had, and I have learned so many things from him.

When he first took me under his wing, he taught me various sayings about death and its reapers. Surprisingly, you may know some of them. The most famous is, "A victim's life flashes before their eyes, the moments before they die."

It has been said by Natural Philosophers that in those final moments, a dying person sees all manner of things. I personally have always found that watching a person die is like watching a candle melt. Its precious light fades away with each drip of wax. It is slow, boring. But then there is that moment when the dying light burns brightest, just before it fades away into oblivion. I have always been fond of that moment. It makes me shiver in ways I did not think possible.

I have only killed twice, yes. Yet, I have seen death more than once. That is what happens when you are practically the daughter of a Master Assassin, let alone one who is a living legend.

It is funny, really. When you truly consider it, Humanity is so much more fragile than it likes to admit to being. Break a bone just the right way, you die. A vital vein, or an artery, gets cut, you bleed out and die. You get a severe infection, an incurable disease, you die. No matter who you are in life, no matter what your accomplishments are, Death is all that awaits you at the end of the tunnel.

And you start dying the moment you emerge from your mother's womb.

As the blade of the Novice moved across my throat, I should have seen my brief life flashing before my eyes. Yet, I saw nothing. No secrets of my past were revealed to me, nor did phantoms haunt my vision. All I felt was rage, and my instincts bellowing at me to transverse.

I narrowly escaped Death, with nothing more than a superficial wound that would heal itself in time. But my fight was far from over. In fact, it was only beginning.

"Witchcraft!" the Novice hissed, as his blade missed its target and became lodged in the sofa.

 _No…Impossible. He cannot be a…a zealot. Can he?_

I ran up behind the Novice, wrapping my arms around his throat in a Tyvian chokehold. He squirmed in my grasp, desperately trying to break free. And he finally did, when he elbowed me in the solar plexus.

I grimaced, inhaling sharply.

The Novice wrenched his blade free, swinging wildly. I transversed away from him, to the other side of the room, and I watched him for a few moments. He was not moving, and neither was I.

 _The way he is moving…If he was a zealot, he would be using the techniques of the Abbey. These are not those techniques. They are the ones taught to us by our Mentors, and our Master…_

"Brother, are your hands not becoming restless?" I said, my voice low and disdainful, "You have been using the techniques of a known heretic this whole time."

The Novice rushed me, his blade poised to strike. _There is my answer. I struck a nerve. So he is a zealot after all._ I quickly shifted into a cat's stance, and struck with my weightless foot. My kick connected, and the Novice howled in pain. He fell onto the ground, clutching his manhood.

I ran over to the sofa, grabbed my blade, and bolted out of the room. To the Novice-Zealot's credit, he was certainly paying attention to the Mentors' and Master's lessons. Yet, in my weakened state and in such a confined space, I did not like my odds of besting him. That is why I decided to retreat out into the hallway, where I would have much more room to maneuver. Much more room to dance.

 _The Outsider always said that I have been blind to the truth. That I am more like my Master than even I want to admit to. And you know what?_

 _He is right._

 _I am not going to run from my fate anymore. I am sick and tired of these games of cat and mouse. So, if everyone truly sees me as nothing more than a mirror of Master Daud, then so be it. That is what they are going to get._

I sharply turned the corner, taking cover behind the wall. I stilled my breathing, and waited. My heart was pounding, but not out of fear, no. I feel…exhilarated. I feel the thrill of the chase. The feeling of no longer being a mouse, but instead taking on the role of the cat. And cats do so love to chase mice…

"Give yourself up, heretic," the Novice-Zealot called. His footsteps echoed down the dilapidated hallway. "Come out. We both know that you're weak at heart!"

I twirled my blade in my hand, continuing to wait.

"Reveal yourself!" His footfalls were closer.

 _Come just a little closer, my brother. I have plans for you. And you are not going to like them._

 _One…_ I waited.

"Are you afraid? You poor girl; the Outsider has truly corrupted your heart."

 _Two…_ I curled my fingers into a fist.

"Reveal yourself, and I promise to make your execution swift, _sister_."

 _Three!_ I sprung out of hiding, my fist connecting with the Novice-Zealot's face.

He stumbled backwards, and I leapt on top of him. I hit him again, and again, and again, using what weight I had to pin him down. He was defending against my attacks rather well. So I switched tactics. I put my blade to his throat, and pressed deeply. Now if he swallowed, he would cut his own throat.

"To answer your question, no. I am not afraid of you," I replied. "But you should be afraid of me."

The Novice-Zealot squirmed underneath me, gathering his strength to push me off of him. In all fairness, he easily could if he wanted to. Yet, it would cost him for doing so. And I think he knows that. _Better make sure he does._

"Ah-ah," I chided, and moved my blade a hairsbreadth, nicking his neck. "Toss me off, and I cut your throat. Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes," he jeered.

I tore the Novice-Zealot's mask off his face, and I gasped. _Dark eyes set against tan skin; medium-brown hair worn long; and a well-kept short beard._

"Julian…" I said quietly. "You are the traitor…?"

Julian spat blood, and glared into my eyes. "Surprised, Arissa? Yes. I'm the one that you and your ilk have been so desperately seeking. You all are blights on this world. You should all be purged from it."

I ran my free hand through my hair. "I would have expected Anatole to be the traitor…Not you," I shook my head. "How long?"

"How long…what?"

"How long have you been a zealot, Julian?"

He smiled. "I've been an Overseer for a long, long time, my dear _sister._ It was the only way to get close."

"Close to what? To who?"

"You stupid girl. You still don't realize it, do you?"

I moved the blade another hairsbreadth. "Tell me what I want to know."

"My mission has been clear to me for years, girl. Daud is an agent of the Outsider, and his corruption must be purged from the world. But then I found a secondary objective. You. The others are quite fond of you…with the exception of Anatole, of course. I'd heard some rather…disturbing rumors about you. How you murmur in your sleep to some unseen entity. How you're the _favorite_ out of the Master's students. So I decided to investigate.

"Now that I see the designs on the palm of your hand, on the entirety of your forearm, I realize that I was right in attempting to fulfill my secondary objective. Just as Daud is Marked, an agent of the wretched Outsider himself, I see that you are, as well."

I raised an eyebrow. "You do realize that the mark I carry is different than Master Daud's?"

"I don't care what kind of mark it is. It is a mark of corruption, of evil, and thus you need to be purged in fire." He pushed his fingers into my windpipe at a forty-five degree angle.

I recoiled from the pain, transversing off of him and onto my feet, away from him. I began to cough. And mentally, I chastised myself for not protecting that part of my neck. _I really should have seen that maneuver coming…_

Julian clambered onto his feet, taking up his blade once more. He charged at me, bringing his blade down. Steel clashed against steel, as I blocked his strike.

"How long have you been reporting our movements to the Abbey?" I asked, gathering my strength and pushing him away.

"I haven't," he growled, as he regained his balance away from me.

"You're lying!" I said in Serkonan, and thrust forward.

Julian dodged, remaining quiet. We began to circle each other, measuring each other up to see who would strike first. I feinted, and Julian retaliated. Again, steel clashed loudly against steel, as my blade locked with his.

"Birds of a feather flock together, don't they?" he said. "You're a good swordswoman for your age, I'll give you that. It seems that the heretic Daud is a good teacher after all."

I laughed. "You are joking, right? If he was not a good teacher, then I doubt you would be using his techniques against me!"

Julian grunted, pushing me away and slashing. I transversed out of the way, then rushed forward, kicking him in the side. As he doubled over, I spun, my blade slicing across his thigh. He cried out and fell onto his hands and knees, his blade clattering onto the ground next to him.

"Get up," I said darkly. "You are going to need to work a lot harder if you want my blood."

He grabbed his blade, and stood up shakily. Blood was pouring down his leg, and I saw him shifting his weight onto his good leg. Yet, before he could get too comfortable, I charged him. Immediately, our blades locked together.

I decided to press my advantage.

"One day," Julian said, pressing back against me, trying to knock me off balance, "you all will burn for your sins against the Strictures. Your hearts will be fed to the hounds, as the Outsider abandons you like the filth you all are."

I lowered my combat stance, to maintain my balance. "How many of you have even _seen_ this supposed witchcraft you so desperately seek?"

Julian laughed. "The Whalers are all the proof I need."

I transversed away from him, and waited. When Julian did not move, I beckoned him forward.

The idiot fell for it.

As he came closer, I spun once more. My blade slashed across his opposite leg, and he fell, hard. Again, his blade clattered uselessly next to him. Yet, this time, I did not allow him to get up. I kicked his blade away, and stared down at him. He spat out more blood, and his eyes flicked up to meet mine.

"I considered you like family," I said, my voice emotionless. "A part of me wishes that this could end differently. That we could find some way to forgive you for your ties to the Abbey. But, at the end of the day, I will be reminding myself that you were nothing more than a zealot, on a vain quest to kill a living legend. You are a traitor to the Whalers and a failure to your Abbey…And as such, you will now face death."

Julian sat up, getting onto his knees. "Mark my words, girl…The Abbey will know of this. They will know that I have fallen, and they will seek revenge against you and your _beloved_ leader."

"I would like to see them try," I replied, putting my hand on his shoulder. " _Requiescat in pace,_ Julian Aylmar. Recite your Seven Strictures as you die."

And then I killed him.

I stabbed my blade into his chest, and his eyes went wide with shock. The realization quickly hit him that he was dying, and I saw his lips moving, yet I could not make out the words he spoke. I pulled my blade out of him, pushing him onto the ground. He laid face-up, staring at the ceiling. I got onto my knees next to him, watching as he bled out. Waiting for the light to fade. And when it finally did, I closed his eyes, and dipped my fingers in his blood.

"Once a king dressed in red; warmed by flames on featherbed," I sang softly, "While all the town starving cried; chilled by winds, the Month of Ice. Eat them of frost. Eat them of snow. The monarch decreed to them below. Up on a spike, they perched his head. Cursed his name; burned his stead…"

* * *

There was a transversal somewhere behind me, followed by a severe curse in Serkonan.

"Do that again, Arissa, and I swear that I'll…" Master Daud paused, as I presumed he saw Julian's dead body lying next to me. "Outsider's black eyes, what in the Void did you do now?"

"It is a very long story, Master. I do not even know where to begin."

"The beginning would be a good start."

"As you wish, Master," I replied, and proceeded to tell him the night I had, including the parts about coming under Mereedee's spell. Though, I did omit the part where I remembered how I lied to him, all those years ago. He did not need to know that. Master Daud was different back then. He cared just a _tiny_ bit more. Now? He would most likely punish me for the lie.

Truth be told, I know it is only a matter of time until that lie catches up with me. One day, he would learn the truth. And one day, I would tell it to him. Better that he hear it from my lips than from someone else's. Yet, that is for another day. Not today. Not after…all of this.

"…And I killed him," I whispered. "I just…I still cannot believe that he was the Overseer zealot in our ranks…"

Master Daud took the blade out of my hands and made me stand, facing him. He seized my chin, and lifted my head up. "He did this to you?"

I nodded. "When I felt the blade touch my throat, I panicked and transversed away. I never knew it was Julian until I took his mask off. In all honesty, Master, I was expecting to see Anatole under it. Evidently, I was…quite wrong."

"Are you okay, Arissa?" he asked.

I was taken aback by Master Daud's bluntness. Normally, he would ask me something like that surreptitiously. This time, I could actually hear the concern in his voice. _Does he sense that I have changed? It makes me wonder…_

"I am hurt by Julian's betrayal, as I fear this may only be the beginning of them. Yet, I will be fine, Master. However, I will not deny to being quite tempted to losing myself in a drug or alcohol induced stupor this evening."

"Don't," he said, sternly. "I need your head clear for what's to come. Meet me in my office in an hour. I'm going to dispose of the body." He spun the blade around in his hand, until its hilt faced me. "Here's your blade. And Arissa?"

"Yes, Master?"

"I expect to see you in your full uniform."

I took my blade, and bowed formally. "By your command, Master."

* * *

After making my way back into the sunroom, I took my equipment box and transversed myself – and the box – into the nearby washroom. I was an utter mess, and if Master Daud wanted me to be in full uniform, then I was not about to go to his office covered in blood, dust, and Outsider only knows what else.

This part of the Asylum is…not nearly as bad as the parts where _i cadaveri ululanti_ reside, but it was becoming close. There was only so much we could do, to keep the building from falling apart. We always knew it was only a matter of time until it finally crumbled. Yet, my gut instinct tells me that we will be leaving soon. _Is that true, I wonder?_

 _Will our new home be in better shape than this one?_

 _Or is that too much to hope for?_

With nothing more than a few candles to light the room, I went about boiling some water for a bath. It does not matter where you reside in Dunwall, you must _always_ boil water before using it. It has been this way for years, even before the Rat Plague struck. It is sickening to think about, actually, the things that can reside in the water that you use to cook with, or bathe with, or drink.

I have spent my whole life living in dilapidated places. That is just the nature of being an assassin, let alone in a gang of them. We never kept permanent homes. If the Abbey of the Everyman was not on our heels, then the City Watch would be. So I was always paranoid about contracting some kind of disease or another. I did not want to die young. And if preventing that meant having to wait a few extra minutes to boil water, then I was more than willing to wait.

I stood in front of a mirror, cleaning the cut on my neck. It did not occur to me until I looked at it more closely, how lucky I had truly been. For one, this wound should not even scar. Yet, the harsh reality of the matter is that if I had waited even a moment longer to transverse, I would most certainly be dead right now.

And that…actually scares me. For all intents and purposes, Julian had me dead to rights. Yet, I had somehow managed to escape my death. It is…a very hard, very strange, reality to try and grasp.

After tying off a bandage around my neck, I sighed, and began to brush out my hair with my fingers. Once the small tangles were out, I picked up a pair of scissors. Twirling the back of my hair into a pathetic excuse for a ponytail, I snipped it off and held it out over the candles, making sure it was burnt into nothingness. Safety purposes. Hair, skin, nails…You would not believe the things that are utilized in black magic, and magic in general.

I shook out my hair and studied my reflection once more. Satisfied that my hair was now mostly symmetrical – and more professional – again, I set the scissors down, and poured the boiling water into the tub. Then, I stripped out of my bloodstained gown, and stepped into the hot water.

I laid my head back against the tub, sighing once more.

 _I should be a sobbing mess right now. I just murdered my brother…even though he attacked me first. Yet, I feel nothing. I feel no regret for my actions. Is that wrong of me, that I am more upset by his betrayal than I am at taking his life?_

I suddenly burst out laughing.

Outsider's eyes…The thought never even occurred to me until now. Julian was the traitor in our ranks, and I killed him. That must be why Master Daud wants to see me in his office. I think I am finally going to become a Master Assassin, after all these years…

What a weird hand Fate has dealt me…The traitor actually _came_ to me. I do not even have need of the binding ritual anymore. Or do I?

No…No, I am going to go through with it. I desire vengeance. Mereedee needs to pay for almost getting me killed. For attempting to drive me into insanity.

 _Oh, Mereedee, you poor, poor darling…You screwed with the wrong Whaler. I am still coming for you, now more determined than ever. Just you wait._

 _I will make you regret everything you did to me, and my family._

 _This, I swear…_


	29. A Precarious Disposition

**_Chapter Twenty-Nine_**

 ** _A Precarious Disposition_**

* * *

 ** _L_** _og Entry: The Beast Within_

 ** _P_** _rimary Subject: N., A. G. D._

 ** _S_** _econdary Subject: M.A., TS. W._

 ** _T_** _wenty-fourth Day, Month of Rain, 1836_

 ** __X_X_X__**

 ** _A_** _ssassins are a peculiar breed. Some make good livings. Some make great livings. Some become legends, written and recorded by history for time memoriam. Others are failures, left to rot in the city that spawned them. And then there are those who are lucky enough to make a living, and retire in a city on a distant Isle that doesn't know their name – or so that's the sweet little lie we all console ourselves with._

 _No one ever realizes the sacrifices we make. We live in places that many would consider to be uninhabitable. We work primarily at night, for fear of getting caught by the authorities. We're always hunted, the prices on our heads steadily increasing as we gain notoriety. We don't have the luxury of family or friends. We have allies. We have enemies. We have the enemies of our enemies, who we call our friends. The life of an assassin – a killer for hire – is a vicious, never-ending cycle. You burn hot, and then you burn up. It's an inevitable fate, with no chances, no hope of starting over._

 _I've been an assassin for more years than I care to count. It's all I've known, and perhaps all I ever will know. I was never exactly what you would call a "family man." I've never had the desire to take a wife, settle down somewhere peaceful, and start a family. Didn't see the point in it twenty years ago; don't see the point in it twenty years later. And that was before I learned how hard it was raising street urchins. I can't even begin to imagine raising an infant. Are they supposed to be gifts, or curses?_

 _I've turned down innumerable contracts, where a despondent mother wanted me to do what she was "too weak" to do, and kill her precious babe. But I've never been in the business of killing children, let alone a_ _ **true**_ _innocent. After all, why kill a child, when they can prove to be useful informants later?_

 _The lifestyle of an assassin affects everyone differently. After dealing with street urchins for as long as I've been in business, I've learned a few things about them. They're quite loyal to their growling stomachs; they're mostly loyal to each other; and each one has a different perception, a different concept, of things like_ _ **right**_ _and_ _ **wrong**_ _._

 _Despite his distrust of me, Kieron came to warn me about Arissa's growing – let's call it a disposition. She's sick. Not physically, but mentally. Do I blame her? No. In order to be an assassin, you have to be sick in the head. The Outsider certainly knows I've asked myself that question more than once. I saw the warning signs a long time ago, when I first met her, and she asked me some very – eccentric – questions for a child her age._

 _What ten year old child asks a man if killing is fun? Her, apparently. But that's beside the point._

 _Kieron is right. I wasn't sure about it at first. Then I saw the look in her eyes after killing Julian. Any doubts I had then instantly vanished. She didn't make a clean kill. Julian had multiple lacerations on his body. From what I could see, some were made while he was still alive. Others were made postmortem. She killed him as though he were nothing more than a toy for her to break._

 _I don't know if this beast within her is one she was born with, or if it has been created of her own volition, but I'm not entirely certain what to do with her. If her mind continues to slip into the deepest reaches of darkness, I have to wonder what lengths she will be willing to go to, just to get whatever she desires at that moment._

 _Would she still be loyal? Would she plan to off me in my sleep, and take my place? Would she kill her own brothers, if they were to get in her way? These are some of the questions I will have to ask myself, if this behavior continues._

 _I realize that Arissa isn't an innocent little girl anymore. I realize the fact that she's now a murderer. And if she can keep a tight grip on the beast within her mind, then I've no doubts that she'll be a legend of her own one day. The world, and perhaps even the Outsider himself, should fear that day._

 _After I disposed of Julian's body, I sent Lurk to investigate the Novices' quarters. Lurk has always been good at uncovering secrets, so if anyone was able to confirm Julian's status as a zealot of the Abbey, it'd be her. I don't yet have reason to distrust Arissa's word, but I needed to be certain that she killed the right man. Better to be safe and formulate a plan to deal with her if need be now, than to be sorry that I didn't do these things later on, when it could be too late to save her._

 _In a way, I can't help but chastise myself. This isn't the first time I've seen this look of deadened eyes. Once upon a time, my mother held the same gaze. Yet in my mother, it had made sense. She had been pushed to the brink of sanity by things both in and out of her control. Though, after what happened to Arissa at Granny Rags' apartment, I shouldn't be surprised that the poor girl's disposition has gotten worse._

 _It's hard to forget the image of a lithe frame, literally engulfed by rats. They were all too happy to nibble away at her flesh. And her screams—If only I'd gotten to her sooner._

 _To be perfectly honest, I didn't think she'd go through with Kieron's idiotic plan. This whole time, I'd been leading her on, hoping that she would get frustrated and find an alternative, more appropriate way of discovering – and dealing – with the traitor. No one realizes it, except for Lurk, but I dealt with Mereedee a long, long time ago. That bitch hurt my men one too many times, and she paid the price for it. It's beyond me why, or how, she was able to torment Arissa in her dreams. She shouldn't have been able to._

 _This is a double-edged blade unto itself. Arissa is as stubborn as a mule. Her steadfastness, her strength, and the challenges she is willing to undertake for herself and the Whalers is commendable. But she's so damned stubborn. Though, perhaps I can use that to my advantage. Something I'll have to experiment with._

 _In a matter of minutes, Thomas will be arriving. I'm passing his rank onto Arissa, and he will become my left-hand man – my second lieutenant, in other words – who will work closely with Lurk. The two of them bicker, and they can't stand working together, but that's none of my concern until one of them tries to draw blood. In the meantime, they can put their petty squabbles aside and do their damned jobs. They're an effective pair when they do._

 _Arissa will be arriving within the next half hour. I'd given her the time so that she could clean herself up. I knew she would. She may be an assassin, but she's still a woman at heart. They can't stand being covered in blood or muck, and they seem to enjoy a reason to dress up for an occasion._

 _The two of them will bear witness to each other's promotions. After today, I just hope I'm not making a grave mistake, entrusting Thomas's responsibilities to Arissa. It seems extreme, but if Arissa gets worse and I can't find a way to cure her, then I'll have no choice but to shove a blade through her heart. And I don't want to do that. She's done nothing to deserve that fate._

 _Everything is beginning to change. We'll be leaving Oracle Natividad's Asylum for Natural Philosophical Research soon. Headed for the recently dubbed Flooded District, where we'll secure the Rudshore Chamber of Commerce building, and the buildings surrounding it, as our new home. We'll take it by force, if necessary. I'll also begin to intensely train the team I've selected to aid me in the Empress's assassination. Upon further consideration, I've decided to go from a team of four Whalers to a team of five. It never hurts to have a spare blade waiting in the shadows, especially with a high-profile killing such as this._

 _So, in the end, I suppose only time will tell if I've made the right choice or not._


	30. Mortui Vivos Docent

**_Chapter Thirty_**

 ** _Mortui Vivos Docent_**

* * *

I could hear the pitter-patter against the old walls, the old roof. It was raining again. Hailing, too. That explains the noticeable change in the temperature. _I have not spent that much time in the washroom, have I? No…No, I could not have. I have made sure to keep careful track of the time._

 _So it is a sudden storm, then? An ill omen, perhaps?_

After making one final adjustment to the collar of my brigade vest, I opened a nearby drawer and withdrew a candle, with an accompanying matchbook and candleholder. I stuck the candle in its holder, with a little more force than I had meant to use. Then, I took a match out of the book. With a flick of my wrist, I scrapped the match against the flint, and touched the flame to the wick of my candle. It lit with little difficulty.

Satisfied, I blew out the match.

 _No more delays. It is time I head up to the Administrative Wing and seal my fate for the better, or for the worst._

* * *

I navigated the halls of the Asylum, my pale blue Novice's coat billowing behind me with each step that I took. I could easily lie about my feelings at this particular moment. Being so adept at lying and hiding my true feelings is literally in my job description. Yet, I will be honest – this time, anyway.

I am terrified. My heart is racing with as much fear, as it is racing with excitement. I had my suspicions as to why I was being summoned by Master Daud. Yet, that was all I had in the end. Suspicions. In the past, I had gravely erred in the interpretation of my Master's words. The results were disastrous.

"How disastrous?" one might feel inclined to ask.

Well, you tell me…

Have you ever tried to mop up a flood? No? Let me give you the answer, then.

You cannot. It is literally impossible.

But something…strange happened to me, in those moments that I thought I was going to die. I was not forthcoming with the information before. It did not seem relevant at the time. _So why is it now?_

I was not born to the Business of Death; I have realized that for years. Yet, I was raised in it. I do not know anything else. Nor do I wish to know anything else. I have no desire to become a sniveling noble, or to be trampled by someone's boots, or repeatedly struck with someone's hand if I am a fraction of a second late with the tea. Society does not interest me, and I am content with being a murderess, making my coin off of the corrupt and the desperate.

What I do not understand is that, even though I know at heart what I am, and what I desire…Why was it, that in the back of my head, I questioned my faith in Master Daud?

Everything that has happened within these last few months…The things that I can recall, and those that I cannot…Were they meant to change me? Make me see a different path?

 _Is Master Daud the one that is changing?_

Soon, Empress Jessamine Kaldwin I will die. The foundations of her city, and her empire, will be rocked to its core. The corrupt souls of the Nobility will swoop in, each man and woman vying for what they believe belongs to them – power, land, coin, etcetera. You know, the usual things. None of them realize the ramifications of a political assassination of this scale. The damages caused by her death will not be easily undone.

But the nobles do not care.

They never do.

 _Kieron cares. Many of my brothers care. Should I care?_

Master Daud taught us that assassinating nobles is one thing. All too often, we get hired to kill a man…only to be paid a few months to a year later to kill our former employer. But assassinating members of the royalty, he once told us, is another game entirely. One that he wanted to avoid.

I do not understand his change of heart. Perhaps I never will. Yet, I believe this is why I was questioning my faith in him, and…

Am I rambling again? I really need to stop doing that…

* * *

My free hand absently tugged on the collar of my brigade vest. The closer to the Administrative Wing I got, the tighter my throat seemed to get. Like…there was a lump in it or something. The wound that Julian had _gifted_ me was also throbbing annoyingly. Although, that could have been my own doing. I did layer several bandages around it…on top of my constraining collar. It may not appear so – nor is it really uncomfortable, I should add – but the collar of the brigade vest does hug one's neck quite closely.

 _I wonder how you get rid of these…ticks. Is it just another curse that we, as assassins, must live with? My fingers are always tapping or twitching. Mostly when I am nervous. Sometimes when I am bored. I have seen my brothers do stranger things. Some have taken to cutting themselves. Some have taken to pulling out hairs. Some bite their nails._

 _Why do they do it? The same reasons why I must keep moving my fingers?_

 _Will we ever be able to stop these…impulses?_

I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. My mind is wandering to too many places. I…need to stop doing this, for my own good. Wait…did I not just say that five minutes ago?

I sighed, shaking my head clear. Then, I pressed forward.

I never liked making the trip up to the Administrative Wing. There are too many winding hallways and blind corners. It always feels like someone – or something – is watching you. And if I were to venture a guess, that is _exactly_ why Master Daud chose to reside up there.

I know I certainly would have, if I was the Master. The Mistress? Hmm…Now there is an interesting question. What would my title be, if I ever did take his place?

Wait…no…That thought is practically treasonous. And I almost died once today. I am not looking to be face-to-face with Death twice in the same day.

Tomorrow, perhaps.

 _Ugh…Speaking of which, when Kieron hears what happened, I am almost certain he will never let me hear the end of it. And speaking of him, where is he? I have not seen him since last night…or is it the other night?_

 _Outsider's eyes, I have lost track of the time…_

* * *

Well, I did it. I finally arrived in the Administrative Wing. And I only walked through two cobwebs this time!

Did I ever mention that I hate spiders, almost as much as I hate rats?

I took a deep breath and exhaled, calming myself once more. Then, I knocked on the door of my Master's office three times.

"Enter," Master Daud replied a few moments later.

I opened the door and stepped inside, setting my candleholder down on a nearby shelf. Thomas was standing at attention near Master Daud's desk, and I decided to do the same. _I was not the only one who was summoned, it seems. This…might not be good…_

Master Daud stood up from his chair, facing both Thomas and I. His eyes met both of our gazes.

"Thomas Wynn and Arissa Gwethalyn Daurana," he began, "the two of you have been with the Whalers for a long time. Thomas, you've been with us since the very beginning. When I first recruited you, I saw you as nothing more than the rebellious son of a Driscolian noble that I'd eventually have to put down for disobedience. However, you proved me wrong. You took to the training, and became one of the best men at my disposal. And your governance has been instrumental in getting the Novices – many of whom are now Master Assassins – to where they are today.

"Arissa, you've been with us since the tail end of the beginning. You were a…eccentric child, to say the least of the very first conversation I ever had with you. You weren't forced into this life. You chose it for yourself. It's a choice not very often made, but I think you made the right one. I've watched you grow from a young girl, to a young woman. There's blood on your hands now, and I suspect there will be much more in the days to come. All of this to say, I'm intrigued in seeing what you'll make out of your life."

Master Daud stepped out from behind his desk, and faced Thomas. "Thomas Wynn, as of this afternoon on the twenty-fourth day of the Month of Rain, in the year of 1836, you will now be known as my second. An acting lieutenant, you will be working alongside my first, Lieutenant Billie Lurk, in the days to come. However, for your safety, you will be staying a black-coat."

Thomas dropped to one knee. "I thank you for this opportunity, Master Daud. By sharp metal and shadows, I swear to you and to the Outsider himself that I will forever serve you sedulously. My loyalty to you is without question."

"Rise, Lieutenant Thomas Wynn."

Thomas stood up, unsheathed his blade, and bowed formally. Then, he sheathed his blade, and stood at attention once more.

Master Daud nodded to him, and Thomas went behind the desk, to the filing cabinets on the back wall.

"Arissa Gwethalyn Daurana, as of this afternoon on the twenty-fourth day of the Month of Rain, in the year of 1836, you will now be known as a Master Assassin," he paused, "and the Commander of them."

I literally gasped. _W-what did he just say? This…has to be a mistake, right? Commander of the Master Assassins? Me!?_

I swore in Serkonan under my breath, and dropped down to one knee, just as Thomas did.

"I am incredibly honored by this opportunity, Master Daud, and I cannot thank you enough for it," I said, managing to recover from being flummoxed. "By sharp metal and shadows, I swear unto you and the Outsider himself that I will forever serve you with the utmost loyalty, until the day I meet my demise. My loyalty to you will always be without question, Master."

"Rise, Commander Arissa Gwethalyn Daurana."

I stood up, unsheathed my blade, and bowed. As I was about to sheathe my blade, however, Master Daud held out his hand. It took me a moment to understand the command, but I followed it nonetheless. I handed him the blade.

Thomas came over, holding an entire uniform in his arms. On top of the uniform were a new blade, a new wristbow, and new bolt pouches. In one of the bolt pouches, I could make out the faint glow of Piero's Spiritual Remedy.

"As of today, Arissa, you're no longer a blue-coat. You're a black-coat," Master Daud said. "But you're more than that. You outrank Kieron, Aeolos, and Galia now. Your rank is only surpassed by Thomas, Lurk, and myself. From this day forward, the Master Assassins are your responsibility. Their failures will be your failures. Their successes will be your successes. You will train them. You will guide them. All of this and more, while you are actively working in the field and also governing the training of the Novices.

"So let me make this clear, Arissa. A lot is riding on you. If you cannot perform your assigned tasks, then I'll find someone who can. You may be talented, but you're expendable," he turned to face Thomas. "The same goes for you, as well."

Thomas inclined his head, and handed Master Daud the uniform and weapons. "Yes, Master. I understand my place."

"As you should." He took the uniform and weapons, pressing them into my outstretched arms. "Before I dismiss you, Arissa, there's one more thing you need to understand."

"Yes, Master?" _Oh, thank the Outsider…I thought for sure I was going to stutter right there._

" _Mortui vivos docent_."

I raised an eyebrow. "What does that mean, Master?"

"It means that you don't want to end up like Mereedee, do you?"

 _I do not think that is what it means, but uh…_ "No, Master."

"Good. I expect to see both of you here tomorrow at dawn, sharp. You're both dismissed."

"Yes, Master," Thomas and I said in unison.

Thomas picked up the candleholder I had brought in, and held the door for me. When we had both crossed its threshold, and the door itself was closed, Thomas grinned at me. He ruffled my hair, and I grunted in annoyance.

"Look at you," he said. "A Master Assassin, after all these years. How do you feel, young sister?"

"I…honestly feel like this is a dream," I replied. "He…made me Commander of the Master Assassins…That is not my place. That is yours."

"It used to be. It's not anymore."

"And you are okay with that?"

Thomas nodded, still grinning. "Yes, I am. Don't worry yourself, Arissa. Master Daud has a lot of faith in you, as he did in me when I first took on the role. I have the same faith in you as he does."

"But what of the others that hate me?"

"Let them hate you. If they don't obey, then you're free to discipline them. Trust me when I say that you _will_ fall more than once. It'll be worth it in the end."

"Outsider's eyes," I sighed, "I hope you are right. And…Thomas?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know what _mortui vivos docent_ means?"

"Yes. It means let the dead teach the living."

"That…makes no sense. How does that apply to me?"

"You wanted to bind a spirit to your will, in the hopes that she would lead you to a traitor, correct?"

I nodded.

"Mereedee is of an unsound mind, and has tried to kill practically every one of us at least once," Thomas said. "Don't take this the wrong way, my young sister, but your mind is unsound, as well. The message Master Daud gave you is of good intent…if you can believe that."

"He does not want me chasing Mereedee, does he?"

"No. And I think you would be wise to heed his message."

"But, Thomas…"

My brother shot me a harsh glare. "Heed the damned message, Arissa. You only have so many chances with this job, and there's only so much I can furtively do to help you. Do you want to succeed, or do you want to count your days before Master Daud replaces you?"

"Okay…Okay, you are right," I relented. "As much as I do not want to, I…will leave Mereedee alone."

"Good."

"Thomas?"

"Hmm?"

"Where is Kieron? I have not seen him since…last night, I think."

Thomas snorted. "The last I saw of him, he was out cold in the Master Assassins quarters. Why?"

"Uh…no reason."

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, young sister. Whatever you say."

* * *

After Thomas and I had parted ways, I made my way to the Master Assassins quarters. My mind was still trying to process what exactly had transpired. _Commander of the Master Assassins…I still cannot believe it._

 _How did I go from being a Novice, to taking Thomas' place?_

As it turned out, Thomas had been right. Kieron was fast asleep in his bed. I quietly sighed, then carefully set my new equipment down on what I supposed is now officially my bed. I wanted to sort through what I had been given. So I dressed down from my full Novice uniform, to nothing more than my trousers, brigade vest and shirt, and my boots.

I sat down on the bed, gently laying the black leather frock coat across my lap. My fingers traced up and down the length of the coat. It was still the same as what I had previously worn, just different in color.

It is strange what I feel now. I understand what I did, of course. How I took the life of someone I once called my friend. He was a traitor, yes, but…nevertheless, he was still a friend to me. I do not know what I was to him anymore. Regardless of that fact, I suddenly feel as though this promotion was…undeserved. Julian tried to assassinate _me._ I did not even begin to suspect that he was the traitor. _Should I have?_

For several long, grueling years, I had yearned for this coat, and the status it granted. And now that I have it, and more, I feel as though I do not deserve it, that I should have earned it for a different course of action or actions taken. Am I crazy for thinking like that?

 _Or is that the mark of a good leader?_

I sighed, running both of my hands through my hair.

"There has _got_ to be a catch to all of this," I muttered to myself. "Things that are too good to be true usually are…"

I felt a hand touch my shoulder, and I flinched.

"What if there isn't a catch?" Kieron proposed. "What if it was simply meant to be?"

"Were you not asleep just mere moments ago?"

He shrugged, sitting down next to me. "I'm a light sleeper," he paused. "I heard what happened. Everyone did, in fact."

"So soon!?" I exclaimed. "How?"

"Word travels fast around here. What else can I say?"

"That I should have been more careful. That maybe we should not have wasted so much time on a useless endeavor…"

"Arissa, hush," he kissed my forehead. "Let's see how well I can read you, shall we?"

"What, are you playing fortune-teller now?"

He smiled for a brief moment. "You've finally risen in the ranks, and now you are questioning it. You're scared, but you don't want to entirely admit it. You feel like you don't deserve this, but in the back of your mind, you feel like you do. Does that about sum it up?"

All I did was blink, uncertain what to say.

"That means yes, I take it."

I nodded.

"Don't question it, and do not be afraid. You'll be a great Master Assassin."

"Kieron, it is more than that."

"Then what is it?"

"I…outrank you, now…"

He raised an eyebrow. "Truly? You're the Commander now?"

"Yes."

"And Thomas?"

"Promoted to Lieutenant, but still wearing the black coat. He did not replace Lurk."

"Huh," Kieron said, then muttered, "That lucky bastard."

I tilted my head questioningly, but Kieron did not elaborate on his comment.

"So what do I do now?" I asked him.

"That depends. What do you feel like you should do?"

I contemplated my answer. "Both Master Daud and Thomas said – in two very different manners, I should add – that I should not go after Mereedee. And I…will heed their words, as much as I do not wish to. Yet, now I have so much riding on me that I…do not even know where to begin with my new responsibilities."

Kieron wrapped his arm around me, and gently pulled me close to him. "You don't have to travel down this road alone, Arissa. I'll always be here for you."

"Thank you," I whispered.

"There is no need to thank me, my Empress," he smirked. "You can do that when we're married."

I rolled my eyes. "This is never going to end with you, is it?"

"If you have to ask me more than once…Well, what do you think? You knew _exactly_ what you were getting into when you agreed to let me court you."

"Fair point, Kieron," I pinched the bridge of my nose, "Fair point…"

"Now, come on," he said, transversing onto his feet and offering me his hand. "I imagine that you're not beginning work until tomorrow. So tonight, we celebrate."

I took his hand in mine, and he helped me to stand. "Celebrate? How? It is pouring outside."

Kieron smiled. "Who said anything about going _outside?_ "

"That…can be taken so many ways."

He laughed. "No, no…not like _that._ Not this time, anyways. My dear, how do you feel about trying something a little…different tonight?"

"That depends. What do you have in mind?"

"I'll go gather everyone, and tonight, we will drink!"

I shrugged. "Normally, I would not agree to this, but…Sure…why not."

"Excellent! Oh, and one more thing…"

"Hmm?"

"Don't try drinking absinthe until you know your limit."

"Why's that?"

"Trust me, my dear…You'll find out soon enough. But I'll leave you with this to contemplate. You don't really want to become a drunken Whaler, do you?"


End file.
